


Blood is Thicker

by t-pring (tepring)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:18:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 47,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7723093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tepring/pseuds/t-pring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John is severely injured by an unusual weapon, it may be that only a family member can save his life. And that means David Sheppard must come to Atlantis...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on ff.net in 2008. As this story was written before season 5 aired, some assumptions were made and most ended up panning out, but forgive any small contradictions to canon. Someday I might go back and make tweaks, but everything works as is. 
> 
> This is consistently my most popular story on FF.net so it seemed worthy of reposting first, here! Enjoy!

The phone rang and David Sheppard stretched out his cramped shoulders briefly before tossing his pen aside and snatching for his cell phone. A smile crossed his lips as he read the caller ID. He quickly flipped open the phone and sank into the enormous leather chair, enjoying its soft comfort for the first time that evening.

"Hey, Julia," he said, the smile evident in the warmth of his tired voice.

"Hey yourself. Long day?" Julia's voice was equally warm and David chuckled, feeling the tension slide out of his shoulders and into the floor through the seat of the chair. He was going to have to marry this woman one of these days. The sound of her voice alone was enough to keep him going for hours.

"It's better now that you've called. How about your day? The meeting with the shareholders go as well as you hoped?"

Julia also chuckled, "As well as I expected, at least..." and they were soon lost in the chitchat of work and friends and that rare camaraderie of peers who all too often felt isolated by their positions of leadership.

At long last, Julia's tone grew teasing. "So, David. You've so far avoided my original question. How was your day? Have you finished all the probate inquiries for your father's will, yet?"

David sighed. "I just spent all evening on the paperwork for those assets that remained outside the trust. But I'm getting there. The Realtors called today. Dad's Palm Springs home sold, and they've got a buyer interested in the Ranch, but..."

"But you still haven't decided whether to sell or not," Julia stated softly.

"No. I know I should. My place is all I need right now. But the ranch -? Well, I grew up there. It's hard to let go, ya know?"

"I know. There's no rush to decide is there? You could keep it for a few years and see what happens. Who knows, your brother may want the place someday."

David snorted, "John take the Ranch? He hates the Ranch. Even in high school, he spent more time with his party friends than he did at home."

"And what normal teenager doesn't?" Julia's tone grew sharp, although David knew her well enough to hear the amusement still underlying her words. "He's still family, David. And people change."

"Not John. Not that much. But you're right. I don't have to decide right away."

"Have you heard from your brother lately?"

David paused. Since Dad's death, Julia had been hounding him to keep open the fragile communication John had initiated after the Wake. David grudgingly admitted that John seemed to be trying. But there could not be two people more different than David and John Sheppard - unless it had been John and Patrick Sheppard - and David was something at a loss as how to proceed. It wasn't like they could talk shop and watch the game together on Saturdays. Not when it took a week at best to relay even the simplest of messages through his command at Peterson Air Force Base. Emails seem to take almost as long, and had lately started taking even longer. He felt a familiar stab of annoyance. What communication they did have was mostly details dealing with Dad's estate, and John seemed to have no sense of urgency around the business David simply wanted done and over with.

"Not since he finally got back to me a month ago regarding the inheritance Dad left him. Even then, he pretty much just gave me the name and number of the Air Force accountants that manage retirement funds. Wherever he is, he's apparently too busy to take an active look at his own finances." David heard the bitterness creep into his voice, despite his best effort at suppressing it.

Julia only laughed. "Three months ago, you were worried that John would challenge the will and run off with half of your father's assets. Now you're complaining that he's not interested enough in your father's money?"

"Well, when you put it that way - "

"It sounds like you're the know-it-all big brother."

"No!"

"What then?"

David cast about for an answer and it suddenly hit him with the force of a ton of bricks. "I - I just don't know who he is, Julia. I know nothing about what he does or where he does it. We were never close, even as kids. Part of that was because John and Dad were always at each other's throats, and I didn't know how to get involved without taking sides. But part of it -?" He stopped.

Julia finished his unspoken thought, "Part of it is that you have your father's habit of judging people by their accomplishments. And both you and your father decided long ago that your little brother couldn't possibly be doing anything worthy of the family name. Flying helicopters in Afghanistan doesn't meet the criteria."

Three months ago, David would have argued 'til he was blue in the face that John had left them. That his brother had severed the ties and abandoned the privileges of family. Today, the memory of John standing on his doorstep, of John sitting uncomfortably on his sofa and asking about Dad's last days haunted him. He still didn't know his brother. He still had no idea what John really did. But David was beginning to think that, just possibly, Julia could be right. Damn her. It did matter to him that he did know those things about his brother, and - maybe it shouldn't. He tried to muster an angry retort and only managed weary avoidance.

"I don't actually have any idea where John flies helicopters."

"You could ask him."

David thought about it. "I may do that."

Julia seemed satisfied at last and they spoke their farewells, with promises of a weekend together soon. When he flipped the phone closed, he sat for a long moment in the chair. Julia was brilliant, beautiful, the CEO of a company bigger than all his family businesses combined. They had joked about throwing their retirement party and wedding reception on the same day, because neither of them had enough time to be married as life was now. He'd seen what that kind of stress had done to John and Nancy. No, he wouldn't make his brother's mistake. For now, he was comfortable with his arrangement with Julia.

David heaved himself out of the chair, closed the laptop that sat glowing on top of the polished rosewood desk that had been his father's, and flipped out the desk lamp. Twenty minutes later, he was tugging the covers down on his bed when the house line rang. At this hour? Frowning, David quickly picked up the cordless unit resting on the bed stand. His pulse quickened as he imagined everything from hostile takeovers to a crash in the Asian stock market. The only news at 11:00 on a Tuesday night could be bad news.

"Is this David Patrick Sheppard?" the voice on the line queried after David's salutation.

"Yes, this is he..?"

"Please hold for General Landry."

David rolled his eyes. Military. That could only mean some long delayed message from John was finally working its way home. Although, he usually spoke to the AG staffers...

"David Sheppard?" Came another voice at last.

"Yes."

"My name is General Hank Landry. You are the blood brother of Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, is that correct?"

David was well versed in reading people, both on the phone and in person. General Landry immediately struck him as a powerful and confident person. David could feel his back go up, his competitive juices start flowing. "John is my brother, yes. But you wouldn't be calling me if you didn't already know that. May I ask what this is all about?"

"I'm sorry to be the bearer of bad news - "

"What's happened." David snapped, realizing that he was interrupting, but he couldn't stand the pandering, the delays. He felt his heart pounding with adrenaline, and it felt something like anger.

"Colonel Sheppard, your brother, has been severely injured in the line of duty. We... need you to come to the Cheyenne Mountain facility."

David just held the phone to his face. Every meeting he had scheduled over the next week flashed through his mind. He'd just suffered through his father's death, for God's sake! Did these people think he had time to run to his brother's side every time the kid got a scratch or broke an arm? John was tough, David was sure of that at least! He didn't need a big brother hovering. John hadn't needed anyone for more than 10 years.

"Mr. Sheppard?"

"Yes. I'm still here."

"We need you to come soon."


	2. Chapter 1

3 Days Earlier:

Rodney sat staring into his bowl of cereal, trying to find a brain cell that was awake enough to bring the spoon to his mouth. Beside him,Ronon sat slurping and shoveling down his own food with indifferent abandon. For once, Rodney was glad for the big man's taciturn nature. He didn't feel up to conversation, quite yet. He managed a bite of the soggy cereal, and idly wondered if one could get hungover on equations. The intergalactic gate network's new encryption program he was working on was slowly driving him insane...

"You going to eat that?" Ronon said, pointing to Rodney's muffin.

"Yes."

Ronon chewed on a strip of bacon for a moment, then pointed again. "When?"

"Do you want me to give you an estimate based on my ratio of chewing to swallowing?"

Ronon grinned, looking mischievous. "That would be good."

"Oh, very funny. Food is free, you know. Go get yourself your own muffin if you want one that badly."

"Nah. I'm full."

"Then why - !" Rodney was too groggy to come up with anything more witty than a standard issue rant, so he spluttered for a moment then began shoveling down food from his own tray, starting with the muffin. As he was washing the thing down with a slug of coffee, another tray clattered onto the table in front of him and Sheppard's hearty greeting turned the dull thumping inside his head into a dull ache. Sheppard was such a morning person. And Rodney hated morning people. In the morning, at least.

"Good Morning, boys!" Sheppard kicked the chair back with his foot, and sat down with his silverware in one hand and something that looked like a fluffy blue football crooked into the elbow of his other arm. The football made a small mewling sound and Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Do you have to bring the kid to every breakfast?" Rodney complained as Sheppard shifted the swaddled baby to lay along his leg. He put his hand under the baby's head and propped him up so that the tiny face was looking back at him.

"Teyla's working out, then she's going to take a shower. I said I'd watch him." Sheppard grabbed his own muffin with his free hand and sat chewing, still looking at the baby.

"Again," Rodney said.

"I don't know about you, McKay," Sheppard retorted, "but I'm in the habit of showering more than once a week so I think Teyla might like the chance now and then as well."

"Can't she just put it in, I don't know, one of those bouncy chairs?"

"Teyla says he cries. She needs a few minutes to herself, now and then, too. I don't mind."

Ronon laughed, and Rodney had to slide his seat over an inch as he shifted to watch the baby as well. "You don't mind as long as you can give him back when he starts crying on you,"Ronon said.

"Yes, well. That is the benefit of being an uncle."

"You're an uncle now?" Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Teyla says Athosian custom calls all adult male friends 'uncles'. I kinda like it." Sheppard gulped a glass of juice, then picked up the baby by the armpits, supporting its head with outstretched fingers. "As your uncle, young man, I'm telling you that you need to work harder on sleeping through the night, here, soon. So your Mom isn't tired all the time and can come back to work."

Ronon guffawed, but Rodney was momentarily confused. Sheppard had spoken with such sincerity, and had sounded so much like Rodney's own father that he blurted out, "Do you think that will work? Will he listen?"

Sheppard just looked at him like he was nuts, "He's a month old Rodney."

"Well, yes, but at what age do they start following directions and, you know - behaving?"

"I haven't started behaving yet, so I don't know the answer to that question. This guy, though, he's a good kid. He'll do what his Momma says." Sheppard directed his attention back to the tiny face that was squinting at him with an equally serious expression. "Won't you. You'll do exactly what your Mom wants, and let her go on missions and kick some Wraith butt. When you're bigger, you can come too."

The baby wriggled, responding to the familiar voice with a small coo. Sheppard smiled and laid him across his leg again to resume eating. Rodney watched Sheppard for a few moments, realizing that neither he norRonon could keep their eyes off the baby's face. Wondering just what could be so fascinating, Rodney watched for a while too, then shook his head in disgust. It was just a baby, as far as he could tell. And not a very interesting one, although he wouldn't say so to Teyla. "When did you get so good with babies? Does your brother have any kids?" Rodney asked Sheppard at last, curious as to when the career Air Force Pilot might have had a chance to spend time around children.

Sheppard snorted, "Dave? I think he might be the only person I know who could be worse around kids than you, McKay. Nah, this guy is the only one I've held for any length of time." He bounced his knee for emphasis. "He's just so darn cute."

Rodney thought the kid rather looked like a pink potato with brown eyes, but he'd learned from his sister that saying so was usually frowned upon.

"Has Teyla said anything about when she'll be back on the team?" Ronon asked after another grueling baby-watching session. Sheppard sighed.

"No, she's not making any promises." He stroked the baby's cheek briefly. "I can't say I blame her, either."

"Colonel Sheppard, come in." John tapped his earpiece, signaling with a flick of his eyes that he was on radio.

"Sheppard here."

"Assemble your team and join me in my office, please."

"Be right there, Colonel." He shoved one last forkful of food into his mouth, then rose, the kid tucked into his elbow again. "We gotta' go. Carter wants us in her office."

"I'll get your tray," Ronon said. He grabbed the stack of dirty plates and stalked off towards the trash bins.

"I'll swing by the gym and drop the baby off. Meet you there."

Sheppard was out the cafeteria door before Rodney had dragged himself to his feet and gathered his trash onto the tray.

"Let's go, McKay!" Ronon was back, waiting impatiently for Rodney to finish up and join him.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Rodney muttered. The only thing he hated worse than morning people in the morning was an emergency in the was practically vibrating when Rodney reached the door and they set out together through the cool, beautiful hallways of Atlantis towards the control room. At least he wouldn't have to work on the encryption program, he realized, suddenly more cheerful. Maybe this wasn't going to be such a bad day after all.

Sheppard was at Carter's door about a minute after Rodney and Ronon got there, and they entered together. Carter greeted them with a warm urgency.

"It's Michael, again. He's up to something on P45-124."

Rodney groaned and sank into the chair in front of Sam's desk. So much for a good day. Sam sat on the edge of the desk, with her legs out and crossed, but her posture was stiff. Sheppard prowled in little circles behind McKay, taking in the information and turning it into restless energy.

"He's pissed we got the baby back three weeks ago, so he's on to some other scheme, is it?"

"It looks that way. The Genii contacted us an hour ago with intel that one of their scouts ran into trouble on 124."

"Trouble?" Ronon said.

"They didn't make it home," Sam answered succinctly. "We sent a MALP through a few minutes ago. It was destroyed almost immediately, but we got these images back first."

The video screen behind Sam's desk came to life at the click of her remote. It displayed a field of static that cleared to reveal a rocky mountain meadow underneath clear blue skies. The camera on theMALP rotated and the planet's DHD swung into view, only barely recognizable as the device they were familiar with. It was mostly disassembled with the disgustingly organic look of Wraith tech sprouting out around it. The wraith wiring ran to another box next to the dialing device, this one looking decidedlyUNwraithlike.

"Michael's messing with a DHD?" Rodney heard Sheppard whisper to himself.

The MALP's camera continued to turn, finally revealing a cluster of the oddly deformed human-wraith hybrids that form the bulk of Michael's minions. One of the hybrids aimed a weapon at the camera. An instant later, the image returned to snow, then flicked to solid black.

"We got hybrids. We got wraith tech. Looks like Michael all right. Any idea what he's up to?" Sheppard asked.

Sam just shook her head. "We don't recognize the second device in the image," she said. Rodney nodded in agreement.

"I haven't seen anything like that either. It had the look of Ancient technology, but Michael couldn't use anything the Ancients considered dangerous. It would almost certainly be protected by theATA genetic key."

"He's messed with his own DNA before. Maybe he's figured out how to give himself the ATA gene, too?" This time, Sheppard sounded grim.

"We still don't know what it does," Rodney said.

"That's what you're going to go find out. Colonel, I want you to assemble a strike force and take the 'gate on P45-124. If the hybrids notify Michael that they've seen aMALP, we may lose our chance at learning what he's doing, so I want you to go as soon as possible."

Sheppard jerked his head in acknowledgement, already moving towards the door. "Do we know how many hybrids are at the 'gate?"

"MALP picked up a dozen before it got fried."

"Two teams of Marines and a Jumper. We leave in 30 minutes."

"Good luck, Colonel."

Sheppard's answer was to jog out of the room with Ronon on his heels. McKay just sat in the chair with his forehead in his hand. Suddenly, encryption equations didn't seem all that bad for some reason. Sam moved behind her desk as if preparing to sit down, then raised her eyebrow at him.

"McKay!" Sheppard's bellow echoed into the office through the open door, bouncing further into the control room where a few heads looked up at the noise.

"I'm coming, I'm coming," Rodney muttered, and he heaved himself out of the chair.


	3. Chapter 3

John Sheppard looked over the group of heavily armed Marines milling around on the Stargate platform and felt a thrill of exhilaration flood his chest. The Stargate was gurgling and flickering a blue glow over the group as they waited, beckoning him towards it. He took a couple of deep breaths to bring his body under full control, then jerked his head in the signal for his group to gather around him. He tried hard not to think about what could go wrong, concentrating on what they had to do right.

"It's almost time, guys. To recap: Jumper 2 goes in first in stealth mode. Walker will confirm our headcount, relay the intel, then we're next. Team Two will follow Team One after a five-count. Secure the perimeter as quickly as possible. Understood?"

A chorus of "yessir" followed his question. A moment later, the hum of a Puddlejumper descending into the 'gateroom sent them scurrying to the sides away from the center of the platform. The puddlejumper vanished with an electronic shimmer, then dove into the Stargate, a ripple across the event horizon and the familiar "splut" of sound the only indication that it had departed. Sheppard lined his men up in two groups of five, plus McKay, and then they waited again. The room was remarkably quiet, the group of men beside the 'gate feeling a common call to center themselves before combat.

John fiddled with his P-90, wiggled his shoulders under the heavy tactical vest, took another deep breath or two.

"Colonel, this is Jumper 2. The LSD confirms 12 targets in close proximity to the Stargate. Eight are deployed around the DHD, targets are: 2 at 9 o'clock, 4 at 12 o'clock, 1 each at 2 o'clock and 3 o'clock. They know something came through the 'gate, so they're looking pretty alert down there. You need to come in fast and hot."

"Understood, Jumper 2. Give us a 10 count then create a distraction by taking out a target or two on the perimeter. Just be careful of theDHD. We need it intact. Get ready boys."

Team one, Ronon among them, lifted their weapons and leaned forward. No one seemed to even breathe.

"Go," John grunted. Five men leaped into the Stargate and disappeared. Team two stepped forward into their places. Sheppard raised his weapon, the tip of it's muzzle almost touching the energy barrier. "McKay, stay here until you get the all clear. Team two, Go!"

John stepped forward and felt the tingle of the wormhole take him. When his foot completed the step, it was onto rocky, uneven ground and a wave of incredible noise assaulted his ears; P-90 fire, shouting, and a blast of drone fire from the Jumper slammed into him with almost physical force. John took three heartbeats to asses the situation, then picked a target and fired. One of the hybrids hiding behind the jumble of the disemboweledDHD fell to the ground, and John swung his muzzle towards a second target. The second guy spotted him and got off a shot before John finished pinning him down. A bullet breezed past John's cheek and disintegrated into the event horizon behind him. John managed not to jerk at the close call, got his shot off and the second guy also fell to the ground, clutching at his chest.

Time to move. Team one was fanning out, pushing the remaining three hybrids towards a row of scraggly bushes that bordered the Stargate's meadow. John jogged towards theDHD , keeping a watchful eye on the perimeter. He kicked a wraith stunner out of the reach of one of the dead hybrids, just in case. A flicker of motion spun him back towards the Stargate and John fired instinctively as a lumbering shape popped out from behind the cover of the 'gate's still-active puddle.

The hybrid jerked and flew backwards with the spray of bullets to land spread eagled on its back. Panting hard, John kept his scope on the area behind the Stargate. Around him, gunfire seemed to be slowing down, and at last a welcoming click in his ear relayed the message he really wanted to hear.

"Sheppard, we're clear." Ronon sounded almost disappointed. John chuckled and relaxed his shoulders. If Ronon was disappointed, that meant the assault had gone well and there were no more bad guys to fight.

"Confirmed, sir. Jumper LSD shows no more in the area. You got them all."

"We got them all, Lieutenant. Team One, hold the perimeter. McKay, you can come through. Jumper 2, any company in orbit?"

"No sir. Skies are clear, too."

Nice. This was how it was supposed to go. They'd had a run of bad luck lately, and John was really hoping that was changing in their favor. He dropped his weapon against his chest and swiped sweat off his forehead. He then turned to the mess of aDHD and gave the jumble of wires and...goo, for lack of a better word...his full attention. Michael had removed the outer cover and taken off all the keys. Into the skeleton of wiring and Ancient crystals, Michael had connected a thick network of the organic wraith conductors, giving the whole thing the look of an octopus eating a...taken apartDHD . It made no sense to John. He knelt beside the unusual device that sat next to the octopus, studying the clean lines and geometric shape of the slightly glowing box.

"It's definitely Ancient," John said as he felt McKay walk up and take a first look at the odd box. John stood up with a groan and moved aside for McKay to get a better look.

"I wouldn't say 'definitely Ancient', but I'd go as far as 'definitely Ancient inspired'." McKay otherwise ignored John and sat on his heels with his palm scanner. John watched him poking at the scanner for a while, then began to fidget.

"So? What does it do, McKay? What is Michael planning here?"

"How should I know?"

"You're the one with the scanner. Shouldn't you be scanning it or something?"

"I am scanning it. For boobytraps. Michael has proven he's quite capable of protecting his little toys."

"You've got a point. How long, McKay?"

"I don't know. Just give me a few minutes to get started."

Three hours later John was about to go mad with waiting. He sat sprawled against the Stargate next to Ronon, squinting in the mountain sunshine despite the sunglasses that just couldn't seem to block the extra-bright glare of this planet's mid-afternoon. The jumper sat parked nearby and the Marines had worked out a patrol system, taking turns playing cards inside the ship when they weren't on sentry duty. McKay wouldn't let them dial the 'gate for fear doing so would trigger a trap, so here they sat. John shifted in his spot, feeling another rock dig into his tailbone.

"McKay! Have you figured ANYTHING out yet?" he yelled from the ground. "Just because Michael hasn't shown up yet to kick our butts off this planet, doesn't mean he won't get here any second, SO - "

"Just wait, I think I'm on to something."

"Something useful, or something idiotic like the last something."

"I think I know what Michael was doing with the DHD."

Ok, that was useful, thought John, and he heaved himself to his feet to join McKay beside the tablet computer the scientist had delicately wired into theDHD. Rodney pointed to a line of code amidst the unintelligible mess up on the screen. "He's using Baal's idea."

"...What?"

"Baal. The Goa'uld back in the Milky Way. Well it was our idea first, but Baal stole it for his own purposes, and Michael is a whole lot more like Baal than us." John felt himself growing annoyed. He was supposed to have memorized every file from theSGC? He threw a get-on-with-it look and McKay sighed with a superior shrug.

"Baal once wrote a program to dial every Stargate in the network at the same time -"

"The replicators!" John suddenly exclaimed. "This Baal guy helped the SGC take out the replicators that way!"

"Exactly. Michael's created a similar program for the Pegasus Network. This code will dial every Stargate in the galaxy, at once, from here."

"But why?"

McKay pointed to the odd device. "My bet is it has something to do with that device. He's got it hooked into the DHD's power source, but I think that's the only connection."

John was thinking hard. "McKay. Does this device generate a beam, or pulse, or energy wave or something?"

McKay's eyes grew wide as he caught on to John's thought. "Something that Michael wants to flood the galaxy with, you mean? Just like we did to kill the replicators in the Milky Way. I don't know what it does yet, but -"

"If Michael wants to dial all the Stargates in the galaxy and blast something into every nook and cranny, then I'm betting we won't like it, whatever it is."

"That's a safe bet," McKay whispered.

John felt a shiver of dread slide down his spine. They'd found this place by pure chance. What other little surprises did Michael have for them? John suddenly wanted very much to get off this planet. To go home and regroup his thoughts. "Can you unplug this device so we can take it with us?"

McKay looked worried at the thought. "It's risky. If I were Michael, I'd boobytrap the connection to the power source."

"Can you disable the trap?"

"I'll take another look."

John paced over McKay as he knelt again and began tapping on his tablet, looking for the code that was sure to do something nasty if they messed with Michael's little science slouched over with a questioning glance and John was sure the observant Runner was picking up John's growing anxiety. John had a second sense for trouble. He couldn't explain it, he just knew there was a growing pressure on his mind; an energy charging up his nerves and setting his heart to racing.

"I don't like this," John said as he passed Ronon on his nervous little circuit.

"It's too quiet," Ronon agreed pointedly and John stopped pacing to look at him.

"You think there's more of them out there?"

Ronon shook his head. "I think the animals know something we don't."

"McKay!" John pounced on the scientist.

"Uh, oh."

"Dammit McKay, don't you dare say 'Uh, oh'. We really don't need another 'uh, oh' today!" John was shouting and he didn't care. Rodney began to tap furiously on his tablet and shouted back, equally angry.

"How about, 'Oh, no', then, because we're screwed. This thing is building up a charge and the dialing program is counting down on a timer to activate. We have 5 minutes before Michael's grand scheme is activated."

"What did you do?" John was approaching fury, even as he was scrambling in his mind for a solution.

"It wasn't me! This program has been counting down for days. Whatever it does, it was going to do it at exactly this time today, whether we were here or not!"

"Ok. Ok. We have five minutes to figure this out. It's not that bad."

John had no sooner finished his sentence than his radio blared into life and the group of Marines on the jumper were leaping out of it to throw their eyes skyward. "Colonel Sheppard! Scans are picking up a hive ship coming out of hyperspace. It will reach orbit in a few minutes!"

McKay looked at John. John just stared back. "Ok. It is that bad. What do we do, McKay? Give me options here in the next 10 seconds or I'm blowing it the hell up." He started rummaging in his C4 pocket for emphasis.

"You can blow up the DHD, it's useless. We'll have to use the jumper's DHD regardless," McKay was babbling, thinking out loud. "But I'm worried about the device. If we destroy it, it may still release the charge its been building up. And we really shouldn't be around if that happens. Not to mention that we'd lose our chance to figure out what Michael is trying to do. If we can keep it intact, that would be nice."

"We don't have time for nice, McKay. But we'll give it a shot."

John thought for a moment longer, weighed the factors he was aware of, then flipped a mental coin. There was no good solution.

"Ok. We put everyone in the jumper, dial home, send it through. I stay and pull the plug on the device. If it powers down I grab it and bring it home. If it doesn't, then I blow the whole kit andkaboodle and leave Michael with nothing but dust. He's not getting the device back, either way." John's voice was grim and determined. Michael had cost them too much recently. He would not get another chance with this little toy. And John would NOT lose any more men to the megalomaniac super-villain wannabe.

McKay and Ronon exchanged a look, then both paused to think through the plan for themselves. McKay took a deep breath and John recognized the man working up his courage. John almost smiled. He knew what was coming.

"I'll stay with you to keep looking through the code. Maybe I can find a way to turn it off before it reaches full charge, it's only at about 30 now. It probably takes a while for all theStargates to activate simultaneously."

"Will the shield protect Atlantis from the device's energy pulse if it goes off in an explosion?"

McKay froze, thought for a moment before answering. "It will protect from most forms of radiation, but we should probably dial up the opacity to shut out everything else we can think of."

John did smile, this time. "Then you're first through, on foot. You get back and modify the shield. There's not enough time to explain to Zelenka." McKay opened his mouth to argue, then closed it and nodded. Ronon rustled at his side and John cut off Ronon's turn at an offer before it could be made. "Help me set the C4." He gestured Ronon over to the DHD.

Ronon just glared at John. The radio crackled, "Sir, we've got incoming darts on the scanner. ETA two minutes."

John stared back at Ronon, who finally shrugged, his eyes worried. "Fine."

The next minute was a frantic flurry of activity. John and Ronon set the charges, nearly mummifying the DHD and the device with C4. The Marines all regrouped in the jumper, and it rose off the ground soon after to hover above the work at the DHD. All the while above, white streaks of jetstream from the incoming darts arrowed towards them in deadly stripes. When all was ready, John took one last look at his handiwork and pulled out the remote detonator. He threw one last look at McKay who just threw his hands up.

"The dialing program will activate in one minute. We need to go now." John nodded.

"Jumper 2, dial Atlantis and send your IDC. McKay, Ronon, step back."

Walker acknowledged the command and the Stargate came to life, groaning as chevron by chevron activated. John held his breath. If Michaelboobytrapped the 'gate itself, they were all screwed. The initializing wave finally splashed into place and the 'gate sat sparkling in placid welcome. A long moment of anxious watching passed. Nothing happened.

"McKay, Go!" John breathed at last.

"Yes, yes. Sheppard, don't hesitate to blow the device if you see anything unusual after pulling the power. A diffuse explosion of energy is still better than a cohesive pulse -"

"Just go!"

"Ok. Good luck." McKay tilted his head in worry, then lumbered through the 'gate. John turned on Ronon.

"You, too." He tried to pour every bit of command he possessed into the simple words. Like McKay, Ronon threw a worried look, then walked into the 'gate.

"Jumper 2, you're next. Raise the shield the second you arrive."

"Yessir. Good luck, sir!"

The jumper maneuvered in front of the flickering puddle, and then it, too, was through. John took another calming breath, then jogged back to the DHD. He threw a look at the darts in the sky, wishing he'd ordered the jumper to blow up a couple of the deadly ships before leaving. They were close, but didn't seem interested in him, yet. They wouldn't fire on the DHD anyway, so he was safe enough. Until they decided to try to scoop him with their culling beams. He'd worry about that when the time came.

At the DHD, he put his back to the Stargate and squatted in front of the strange Ancient looking device. Bracing himself to move quickly, he gripped the squishy power cord that snaked into it's side - and yanked hard. The box glowed brightly for an instant, and John jerked to his feet, backpedaling quickly. A diffuse column of light, almost like a flashlight beam, shot towards the Stargate and grazed John's side as it passed. John felt a warm tingling along his left chest and abdomen, but the feeling quickly faded and the box dimmed. In only seconds, it had darkened completely.

"Sheppard! Do you read me? We just picked up a hit against the shield. Are you Ok! What happened!"

McKay's voice blared over John's radio and jolted John out of rigid surprise. He quickly reached for his radio, squatting again by the dead box. He began stripping off C4 detonators as he answered the panicky queries.

"I'm fine. I pulled the power cord and that Ancient device shot a beam at the Stargate, but you were right about it not being full power, yet. Nothing happened. Did anythin get through the shield?"

"No. We just registered the energy pulse."

"Good. Give me a 20 count, then lower the shield. I'm bringing the device with me, it's completely powered down. I'll blow the DHD, then I'm coming through."

"Acknowledged."

John stood up, hefting the device under one arm. It was heavier than it looked. He shifted it, trying to find a comfortable position. With his other hand, he flipped the switch on the C4 detonator. Once behind the protective event horizon of the active Stargate, John pressed the button.

"Not this time, Michael," he said softly with a grim smile. The DHD exploded with satisfying thunder. John finished counting to 20 then dashed around to the front of the Stargate. A dart finally decided to take action and strafed the path to the 'gate with its culling beam, the whining scream of its engine rang in John's ears with painful intensity.

"I'm coming through!" he yelled into his radio over the noise, then he threw himself sideways into the event horizon, inches ahead of the dart's electronic net.

When John stumbled into the gateroom on Atlantis, he almost crashed into Ronon who was waiting a few feet from the puddle on this side. He put a hand on John's shoulder to stop the stumble, then slapped his back a few times in happy welcome, almost pushing John over again. John just stood there, panting hard. The 'gate shut down, and the platform seemed suddenly noisier as the babble of technicians and on duty SOs were revealed in the absence of the constant gurgling.

"Give me the device," McKay demanded, suddenly at John's elbow. John just handed it over, not quite caring what happened to it now that he was pretty sure it wasn't going to destroy the galaxy. McKay grabbed it with gloved hands, and immediately lowered it into a shielded containment box being held by an also-gloved Zelenka.

John stretched uncomfortably. He had a cramp in his left hip from carrying the damn box awkwardly, and a stitch in his side where the edge had pressed into his ribcage.

"Colonel! Welcome back. Well done. Was the DHD destroyed?" Carter came loping down the steps and raced up to him. Her broad smile of greeting suddenly froze on her lips. Then she was frowning and reached out both hands, almost as if she were trying to catch John from falling over. John threw her a puzzled grin, and rolled his shoulders again. That ache just would not let go. He put his left hand under his vest to press against the stitch in his side, even as he was answering.

"The DHD on 124 is toast. We used enough C4 to melt it into a puddle..."

John's voice trailed off as he realized his hand against his side felt damp and slippery. He felt Ronon's hands on his shoulders again as his knees suddenly wobbled under him. John pulled out the hand and looked at it stupidly. What the hell? He sagged further into Ronon's support.

"Medical team to the gateroom!" Carter shouted at the control room above them. The cry was quickly acknowledged.

John sank to his knees. He felt lightheaded. The ache in his side was growing into a lung gasping stab. The hand he still held in front of him was coated in glistening red. Feeling completely dumbfounded, he held out the hand to McKay who had scuttled over and was kneeling beside him as was Carter. Ronon was behind him, still holding him upright as he swayed dangerously.

McKay opened and closed his mouth a few times, then tried for macabre humor. "I won't say it if you won't."

John nodded. "Uh, oh," he said.

He felt a warm gush down his leg and he sucked in a hissing breath between his teeth. The pain in his side surged and he cried out, doubling over with his arms wrapped around his middle. Ronon lowered him gently to the gateroom floor where John curled up, feeling more wetness seeping into his clothes and dripping onto the cool decking. He heard his name called by several voices, he felt hands trying to roll him over and unzip his vest, but he fought the movement, wanting only to wrap himself around the growing agony through his middle.

Damn you, Michael, John thought as the world grew darker. He was unconscious even before the medics reached the gateroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Rodney sat in the chair a few feet from Sheppard's bed with his arms crossed and his hand over his mouth. Although the body of his friend was obscured by equipment and nurses and doctors, Rodney kept seeing flashes of John lying on the 'gateroom floor in a puddle of red, his shirt, vest and pants soaked with dark wetness. Once John had passed out, Carter and Ronon had rolled him onto his back and torn off his vest, looking for a wound or bullet hole or...anything to explain the sudden, massive bleeding. And there had been nothing. Just a huge, nearly perfect semi-circle of damaged flesh that seemed to have sprung a leak.

Finally unable to sit still with nothing to occupy his mind, Rodney leaped from his seat and raced for the doors. "McKay? Hold up a minute."

Rodney stopped with a reluctant lurch and closed his eyes briefly. Pulling himself together as much as he could, he finally turned to face Sam Carter.

"What is it, Sam? I really need to get to my lab and start analyzing that device - "

"That's what I want you to do. After Dr. Keller gives us an update on John, I need you to figure out what that thing did, does, and/or was supposed to do." Rodney was startled by the anger seething in Sam's voice, and he finally, really, looked at her long enough to see an all-too-familiar rage burning behind her eyes. She went on, "More importantly, we need to know where Michael got it, and how we can prevent him from ever getting another one. Ever."

Rodney nodded, his eyes wide, and turned towards the exit. "I'll go now. I'll figure it out, I promise." Sam smiled slightly, held out a hand to touch his arm, holding him back.

"After we talk to Jennifer," she said.

Rodney sighed then nodded again. It was only a few minutes later that Keller called them together into her office. Ronon and Teyla appeared from somewhere nearby. The group stood in a loose circle, every eye intent upon the doctor. Jennifer took a deep breath and flashed Rodney a small smile that was reassuring, even though he understood she meant no promises by it.

"Colonel Sheppard is stable for the moment, but he's fighting for his life in there. We are having to pump massive amounts of fluids and plasma into him to compensate for the bleeding in the radiated area that we have only been able to suppress, not stop."

"Radiated area?" Rodney interrupted. "Are you certain that the damage we saw on John's body is caused by radiation?" Jennifer shook her head sharply.

"I'm calling it radiation because I don't know what else to call it. The cell damage on the dermal layer looks very similar to severe radiation burns, but it isn't presenting like normal radiation cases I've studied. I'm hoping you'll be able to tell me more about what did actually hit him." She looked at Rodney hopefully.

"Zelenka is setting up containment and research procedures on the device Sheppard carried back. We'll know more after I get a look it."

"Keep me in the loop. In the meantime, we're watching the Colonel very closely for developing internal damage and aggressively treating him to prevent infection. For now, that's all we can do." Jennifer's voice grew soft, and she held Teyla's arm in a supportive way. "John is still unconscious, and that's probably a good thing. I can't imagine how painful his injuries must be. But - I'm sure he would appreciate a visit. Even unconscious, he'll know you're nearby. I'm certain of it."

"Thank you, Doctor," Carter said. "Keep us in the loop, too, please."

"Absolutely."

Teyla and Ronon followed Keller towards John's bed and Carter waved goodbye, returning to her duties in the control room. Rodney watched the group heading back into the infirmary and considered for a moment going with them. Keller had said John would know they were there. It was however unlikely that the unconscious, badly wounded, bleeding-to-death, damn him for not getting out of the way, John Sheppard would realize that Rodney was NOT there. He turned on his heel and shouldered his way through the infirmary entrance, then set his feet towards his labs. He would be much more useful to his friend there, anyway, Rodney decided.

The image of John on the 'gateroom floor flashed past his memory again, and Rodney scrubbed his eyes with a furious swipe. A few minutes later he reached the room where Zelenka was fiddling with the device that now sat within a large, clear containment box. Rodney clapped his hands and rubbed them together, startling Zelenka with the abrupt sound.

"Let's get this figured out," he announced, realizing he sounded angry. For an instant, he let the anger surge and it felt good. Rodney picked up a screwdriver. "I'm going to really enjoy dismantling that thing..."

"Colonel Carter? Dr. McKay?"

Rodney looked up from the monitor that was either going blurry, or Rodney was losing his eyesight from staring at it for so long. Beside him, Sam stretched and also turned towards Jennifer Keller who stood in the doorway to Rodney's lab. She took a step closer, entering the room proper, then shoved her hands into the pockets of the white lab coat she was still wearing. When neither Sam nor Rodney could muster the energy to say anything, she shrugged and spoke for herself. She looked as tired as Rodney felt.

"I'm glad I found you both together. I need to update you on Colonel Sheppard's condition, and it's not good news."

Rodney stiffened and looked away. He was glad Sam was there when she replied, "Go ahead, doctor. We'll take any news we can get." Jennifer smiled slightly.

"Sheppard is still losing blood, and there are signs that some internal bleeding may have started on the most severely affected side. He's developed a minor infection that we are treating with massive antibiotics." Carter shook her head in horror and Jennifer took a quick step closer, suddenly intense in her urgency. "The thing is, that's not the worst part. Over the past 24 hours I've been taking blood samples hourly, to check for infection, that sort of thing. A few hours ago I got to looking closer. Something is causing Sheppard's DNA to mutate. Just slightly, but enough to create the buildup of a byproduct protein that is, essentially, toxic. And here's the real kicker: It's the ATA gene that is being targeted. The mutation essentially turns 'off' the ATA gene, abandoning the protein that would normally be used up with the ATA's normal functioning."

Sam and Rodney looked at each other. Rodney started snapping his fingers as an explosion of understanding jolted him out of his slump. "Michael," was all he managed to blurt out.

"He's trying to get rid of everyone with the ATA gene," Sam said.

"So that none of us can use Ancient technology against him, and he'll have it easier taking over the galaxy next time," Rodney added. "The device is some sort of genetic manipulator, probably like the one here on Atlantis that evolves DNA to help humans ascend. I knew these readings looked familiar somehow, but I hadn't made the connection. Michael programmed an ascension device to attack one specific gene."

"But did he intend to kill everyone with ATA, or just shut the gene off?"

"Does it matter? It's killing Sheppard."

"You're right of course. So, how do we stop the mutation?"

The two scientists stopped their rapid-fire conversation and turned as one to fix Keller with excited, expectant looks. Jennifer just stood there with her mouth open for a second or two, trying to catch up. "Well, Michael meant the beam to be diffused through the Stargate and spread across entire planets. Anyone affected that way would have just found themselves experiencing nerve damage and neurological troubles weeks, possibly even months, after the event," she said.

"But Sheppard must have come into the beam directly," McKay said.

"Exactly. The concentrated blast completely destroyed the ATA it came in contact with, and a few other parts of the cells along with it, causing the bleeding you saw. It's also causing much faster mutation of the surviving ATA. In Sheppard's case, there is so much destruction, and the ATA is being mutated so aggressively, that the toxic proteins are building up very quickly. The more ATA he loses, the greater the risk that he'll suffer pulmonary distress and cardiac arrest as the toxin interferes with normal body function."

"Would reprogramming the device to turn Sheppard's ATA gene back on fix him?" Rodney asked in a rush, almost turning back to his screen in his eagerness to get back to work. Jennifer thought about it for a moment.

"I suppose, if it stops the mutation process as well. How long would that take?"

Carter suddenly turned on Rodney and looked stern. He spluttered for a moment, wondering what the obvious warning was all about then said, "If we compare Michael's device to the one we have here on base, then I might be able to do it in a few hours. A couple of days, tops."

"McKay." This time Carter's voice was stern and her eyes were shooting daggers.

"Well, it might actually take a couple of days, a week tops." Rodney grew suddenly nervous under Carter's glare and began to babble, "If the two units are anything like each other and we don't have to reverse engineer Michael's code completely from scratch..."

Jennifer jerked her head sharply, "Sheppard doesn't have that long. He might not even have two days if I can't find a treatment that will slow the mutation, neutralize the protein, or somehow boost his ATA. I'm preparing a course of treatments to try, but honestly, I think his best chance will be blood transfusions; whole blood, and lots of it. If we can flood his system with fresh ATA, even if it's only in his blood supply, perhaps that will be enough to neutralize some of the protein and hold off the life-threatening side effects."

"Will it work?" The words came out softly, and Rodney realized he was asking as a friend, not as a scientist. Jennifer was looking at her feet, and Rodney suddenly saw Carter fix the 'let's be honest, now' glare on the doctor. Jennifer met the gaze at last, took a deep breath as if preparing herself for a battle.

"We know that ATA is a genetic trait passed on through families. There are inherited factors that we don't really begin to understand yet, but they definitely impact the strength and usability of ATA."

"Such as how Sheppard's able to use Ancient technology without thinking about it and the rest of us have to concentrate to get anything done." Rodney found himself only a little bitter about the strength of John's gene at that particular moment.

"Yes. It may be that a family member, a close family member, who carries the ATA would be the best possible donor to keep John fighting until you find a way to reverse the mutations."

Carter and Rodney looked at each other. "I know John's father just recently passed away - " Carter started, looking resigned.

"Sheppard has a brother."

"Really? I didn't know that," Carter said curiously.

"He doesn't talk about him. Ronon even had to tell me after they got back from the funeral. He could donate."

"Rodney, even if John's brother does have the ATA gene, you're talking about a civilian here."

"So?"

"I'm assuming that John can't be moved, much less go through the Stargate, so that means - "

"His brother will have to come here. Again, I ask: so?"

"Do you realize the security implications?"

"Sheppard's brother is some kind of...of business, CEO, corporate type. Ronon told me. Get him to sign an NDA and he'll know exactly what that means. Non Disclosure Agreements are industry standard."

"Even if the IOA agreed to that - "

"Sam!" Rodney interrupted, hearing the anger back in his voice. "This is Sheppard we're talking about. If Sheppard needs his brother to come to Atlantis to donate blood, then that's what's going to happen."

Carter smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes that Rodney didn't quite understand. "I'll contact Stargate Command, get them started on finding contact info for John's brother. That way, if it comes down to it, we'll have a head start."

"Thank you," Rodney whispered. Jennifer slapped her hands lightly on her coat.

"In the meantime, Colonel Carter, could you also prepare a list of everyone on base who has the ATA gene and ask them to volunteer for blood donation?" she said. Rodney hopped off his stool and began to roll up his sleeve. Keller reached out to lightly touch his arm . "I'll put you at the end of the list, Rodney. You need to work on the device."

"Oh. Ok." Rodney hesitantly held up his own hand to touch Jennifer's still resting on his arm. "Make it work, Jennifer."

"Will do!" she replied, sounding hopeful. Rodney almost believed her.

"It's not working."

Rodney looked up from where he'd been dozing in the chair next to Sheppard's bed. He felt woozy from the amount of blood he'd given in the last hour and realized he probably shouldn't have lied to Keller about when he'd eaten last. Maybe he could ask her to bring him a sandwich...

"What's not working?" he answered groggily.

Keller sat down in the chair next to him, fiddled with the tube coming out of Rodney's arm, then slumped backwards against the seat.

"The transfusions. It's frustrating because it almost works. I see slight improvement after each transfusion, but John's body just isn't accepting the foreign ATA enough to help him turn the tide. He needs a better match. He needs his brother."

"Zelenka's making progress on the device. We should have some working code in a couple more days. And Carter called Landry a while ago and told him to make contact. If Doug - or is it Don? - whatever. If Sheppard's brother has the ATA gene, he could be here within the day."

"I just hope it's soon enough," Jennifer whispered. Rodney had no answer. He dropped his head back into his hand, idly following with his eyes the tube that snaked from his own arm into a blood pump, then continued on to a bag on the IV pole over Sheppard's motionless form. He'd never known until today that he was a donor type match for Sheppard. Sometimes Rodney was surprised at how similar people could be deep down when on the surface they seemed so different. It had taken a long time for Rodney to figure that out about Sheppard.

They sat in supportive silence for a long time. Around midnight, Carter walked into the infirmary, looking agitated. Jennifer stretched and stood, waving the Colonel over. Rodney saw Sam's eyes flick over John as she drew near, and her jaw clenched even tighter. Rodney sat up stiffly. Something was wrong.

"I just heard from General Landry at the SGC," she started. Her voice was strained, as if she was finding it hard to speak. "Landry made contact with David Sheppard personally and asked him to go to Cheyenne Mountain where we were hoping to test him for the ATA gene and get him to sign off on security clearance."

"Were hoping?" Rodney asked pointedly, picking up on her disturbing choice of words. "Where will he be tested instead and when will he be here?"

"That's just it," Sam suddenly blew out an angry sigh and walked over the step or two to the bed. She rested her hand on John's arm.

"He's not coming," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

David dropped his keys on the table by the front door and flung his suit coat sloppily at the coat tree in the entryway. Once the door was closed behind him, he just stood there. Staring into space. He hadn't slept last night. He'd spent all day on the phone. He felt wrung out, bone weary. Like he'd felt the day after his Dad died...

Shoving the comparison aside, he walked briskly to his office and slapped his laptop down on the desk. He flipped it open to begin powering up, then made a quick dash into the kitchen for a glass of water. His cell was ringing when he returned, and he had to race back into the entryway to dig the phone out of his coat pocket. He scanned the caller ID quickly and flipped open the phone as he was walking back to the desk.

"Hey, Julia. Listen - thanks for calling but it's still 4:30 in California and I need to make some more calls before everything shuts down for the day."

"OK," Julia's voice seemed understanding, but there was concern in her tone. "I just wanted to check on you. How are you doing? Have you heard any more on your brother's condition?"

"I - I'm good." David sank into his office chair and felt suddenly overwhelmed. "No. No, I'm not. Julia, I can't get them to tell me anything. I get a cryptic call in the middle of the night summoning me to the middle of nowhere on John's behalf, and they won't tell me what happened to him, or where he even is. Do you know, I spent two hours on the phone with the pentagon this morning. It's like my brother doesn't exist. No one can tell me where he's stationed, or what hospital he might be sent to, or how to get in touch with him except to contact his unit at Peterson."

"Then why don't you do what this General Landry person asked? Go to Colorado - "

"I even talked briefly with the head of the VA and asked him to find out if John is being brought Stateside for treatment at Walter Reed or some other VA facility. They have no orders for him, at any hospital, as far as the head of the VA himself knows. So that really worries me. The thought of John at some half-assed overseas medical facility with credentials unknown -"

"David."

"It's asinine, Julia! I've got connections to the best doctors in the world and John is probably stuck somewhere in the middle-east in the care of a goat farmer with a Red Cross badge."

"David."

"I went ahead and contacted Dr. Rosen. He's an old friend of Dad's, and used to be this country's best trauma surgeon out of Mayo Clinic; they said something last night about blood transfusions. Anyway, Rosen said his research group would take John as a patient if John needs surgery of any sort. That is, assuming I can eventually FIND my brother and get him transferred -"

"David Sheppard! Would you please stop talking for ten seconds and sit back down in your chair!"

David blinked. He had indeed left his chair and was pacing in frantic circles in front of his desk. Somewhat taken aback, he walked around and sat sheepishly in the chair.

"Good. Now take a drink of your water and listen to me," Julia's words were sharp, but the bite was softened by the realization of just how well she knew him, by how much she cared. David did as he was told while Julia went on, "You need to stop trying to handle everything on your own and just go! Go to your brother."

"I don't know -"

"No. You don't know what's going on, David. And you're worried, and it's driving you crazy that you can't run things on your own terms. But maybe you just need to do what you've been asked to do and go. You'll find out what you find out."

"It's not that simple, Julia."

"Why? Why isn't it simple?"

"Because this is John. Because it doesn't make any sense. John's not in Colorado, General Landry was clear about that. I will do...anything for my brother. He's the only family I've got left. But I can't help him if I don't understand. And I won't waste time on some military wild goose chase. I have a few more avenues to pursue. I talked to Nancy, and she thinks he's with some covert operations unit, which makes sense considering the difficulty I'm having finding him."

David paused and the silence on the other end of the line was palpable. David waited another heartbeat, then rushed to fill the angry quiet. "I'll go to him, Julia. I promise. As soon as I find him, I will go."

"You'll do anything for your brother. As long as you're in control of what gets done. But you won't trust him. You won't trust the people that he has chosen to care for him." Julia's voice was icy soft.

"Julia -"

"Good luck, David. I really do hope you find him."

"Hey -"

"I've got to go. You needed to call California. 'Bye, David."

"Goodbye," he said, utterly confused and hurt. His hands fell into his lap, still holding the phone, then he leaped up to pace around his desk again. Julia's words echoed in his mind. "You need to stop trying to handle everything on your own and just go to your brother."

David kicked at the chair as he paced passed. This was so typical. He'd worked his butt off all day trying to get to John and Julia was accusing him of insensitivity. He stopped beside the desk and picked up a small piece of paper with a phone number scribbled under the name, Gen. Hank Landry. He took a deep, shuddering breath and blinked back sudden moisture in his eyes. He'd never felt so unsure, so confused in his life. He didn't know what to do. Julia was right. He didn't trust Landry, because the man hadn't been able to tell him who he was or what he did or where his brother was. And that mattered to David Sheppard - and maybe it shouldn't.

A sudden bright flash of white light glowed through his darkened office window and he dully wondered who was pulling into his driveway. He had already started to walk to the front door when the bell rang, followed almost immediately by an aggressive knock. David quickened his steps and opened the door.

Two figures were standing in the dim orange glow of his porch light. The shorter of the two looked David up and down with an appraisal that was, frankly, disconcerting. And annoying. David drew himself up, feeling anxiety and worry and confusion solidify into a knot of anger.

"What can I do for you?" David said brusquely. He had a bad feeling about these strangers on his doorstep.

"You're David Sheppard?" said the shorter man. David nodded, feeling himself in something of a contest of wills that he didn't even understand yet. He remained silent, watching the man warily.

"Good, good. My name is McKay. Dr. Rodney McKay." The man bounced on his toes, looking David over again. "We have to talk."

* * *

David just looked at the man calling himself Dr. McKay. He was tired of being kept in the dark. He was sick of circumvention and didn't need it from strangers on his doorstep when he should be pursuing leads and tracking down John. "What exactly is it that we have to talk about?" he said, his voice cold.

"Your brother. About why you won't get off your ass and help him." The second man stepped closer as he growled out the words. Dr. McKay grimaced and shot an embarrassed glower at his colleague, then shrugged upon further thought, seeming to decide he agreed with the sentiment. He turned back to David, his expression expectant, as if he were daring David to disagree.

David simply raised an eyebrow. He had been through too many hostile board meetings to be thrown by an insult or two. On the contrary, a small flicker of hope fluttered in his chest at the realization that here, finally, was someone he could TALK to - in person - about his brother's situation. Whoever these people were, they were at least concerned enough to speak passionately. He stood aside and gesture the men into his entryway.

"If you're here about John, then I'm glad to see you. Please come in," David said at last.

"Really? Ok, then." Dr. McKay said, looking surprised. David held out his hand as McKay slouched through the door.

"Dr. McKay," David murmured as the man took his hand in a firm shake. McKay jerked his chin at the second man who walked in behind him.

"That's correct. This is - "

"Ronon. Yes, I remember now. Forgive me for not recognizing you sooner."

"Dave." Ronon said and also shook his hand, but the tall man with the very un-military look remained wary.

"It's David." David stepped back and settled himself on his heels, realizing he had adopted the posture he used in conversations where he needed to assert his agenda right out the gate. He decided to get to the point.

"I'm actually quite glad to see you, and I assure you, I do want to help John get the best care possible. I've been trying to get information about his location all day, in fact. If you can tell me where he is being treated, I've made arrangements for him to be accepted at the Mayo Clinic for anything he needs. Or, if you'd prefer, you could brief me on his injuries and I could contact a specialist that's more appropriate." David paused to allow the men a chance to respond. He'd learned in his long years in dealing with people that a choice between two equally acceptable solutions often helped in steering them in the direction he wanted. Ronon and Dr. McKay just exchanged a look.

"I assure you that Sheppard's getting the best care possible in the most advanced facility in two galaxies," McKay said. David saw Ronon raise an eyebrow at the Doctor's odd choice of phrase, but he otherwise let it go. McKay went on, "We're here to ask you to come with us back to - that facility. Sheppard needs whole blood transfusions from a close family member -"

"Are you a medical doctor, Dr. McKay?"

"Uh, no. PhD. Two PhDs, actually, from -"

"Then suffice it to say that I'm greatly concerned about a - facility -", David gave the term the same emphasis that McKay had used, "that can't seem to stock enough blood to care for my brother's injuries. Not to mention the puzzling waste of effort in trying to recruit me from God knows how far away under the ridiculous excuse of a transfusion. If he needs blood, get him blood - surely you can find a blood bank in the neighborhood since you've taken the time to drive all the way out here - and then get him transferred somewhere competent."

David saw Dr. McKay's face harden into lines of anger, but he didn't care. David was also tired of people wasting his time. He was not going to let it go until he got satisfactory answers and orders for his brother to be moved to a reputable hospital. McKay seemed to be trying to keep his temper.

"The issue is not blood supply. Sheppard's got an entire city full of people that would drain themselves dry for him if all he needed was blood, myself included. The issue is genetics. He needs a family member with -"

"Dr. McKay," David interrupted softly, seething with the frustration of being force to state the obvious flaw in these people's idiotic motivations. "I am not a blood type match for my brother. There is no reason for me to donate blood on John's behalf. He couldn't use it if I did."

For just a second, Dr. McKay and Ronon seemed taken aback by the revelation. "You're sure?" Ronon asked suspiciously. David nodded.

"The issue came up once when we were children."

Ronon shot a concerned look at McKay who just shrugged. "We'll let Keller figure out that little hiccup. The only thing we really need to know is this -" He rummaged in his jacket pocket and tugged out a small, pearly-white box that looked like a hand-held video game to David. McKay shoved the box at David who took it skeptically, only barely curious enough to humor the man.

"Turn it on," McKay ordered.

David raised an eyebrow, and turned the box over in his hand looking for a switch. His thumb brushed the LCD screen and the box suddenly glowed. A stream of data in some foreign script scrolled over the display, then the thing went into a menu mode with equally indecipherable text.

"Oh, thank God, he's got the gene." McKay sighed, slumping slightly with relief. David saw an instant of deep concern in his expression, to be quickly replaced by determined confrontation.

"What does this prove?" David said, handing the box back to McKay.

"It proves that you have a very rare, and very specific gene that can save your brother's life. It's not about the blood, it's about that gene, and you are the only person that even has a chance of keeping John alive long enough for us to finish working out a more permanent cure." McKay took a step closer and David found himself fighting the urge to back off. He held his ground as McKay's voice turned mocking, "I would recommend that you volunteer to come with us immediately and stop wasting my time that could be better used finding that cure."

David stood toe to toe with McKay. "My brother flies helicopters. He was injured in the line of duty. Until I get a reasonable explanation for why a glowing box and my family's DNA has anything to do with why you won't explain where my brother is or how my being anywhere but here, trying to find him, is to his benefit, I'm not stepping a foot outside that door."

"Fine. You want an explanation? I'll give you an explanation."

"McKay..." Ronon rumbled, and David heard warning in the tone.

"No. The man has a point. Why simply take our word for it that John is dying by inches and needs Dave here to save his life? Why should he believe, on our say-so alone, that his brother could die, regardless of his help, and that he might want to be nearby if that happens? He's right that it doesn't make sense given what he thinks he knows."

David felt McKay's rebuke like a knife to the heart. He sucked in an angry breath, but found no words to retort, so McKay just narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He took a deep breath.

"Colonel John Sheppard, Ronon, myself, and 8 Marines took the Stargate by force on a planet designated P45-124 where an enemy named Michael had planted an alien device meant to broadcast a beam of energy throughout the Pegasus Galaxy. We discovered the device before it was able to flood the Stargate network, but Sheppard came into contact with the beam in the process of disabling the threat. Not only did the concentrated burst of energy cause immediate and massive trauma to the tissue it touched, but it is systematically destroying the ATA gene in John's body, causing life-threatening side effects. Dr. Keller believes that transfusions of blood with a close genetic match of the ATA gene could hold off these side effects until we can reprogram the device to repair the damage it has caused."

David just stood there. McKay bounced on his toes once, then turned to Ronon.

"That sound about right?" he said.

Ronon shrugged. "If you said that Sheppard got zapped by Michael's box and needs Dave to give him blood, then - yeah. That's about right." McKay and Ronon both looked at David, waiting for his response. Any response. David wanted answers and they gave him jargon and military code words. He didn't know if it could even be possible to feel any more frustrated. He already felt drowned in it.

"You were there when John was injured?" he finally choked out, trying to grab onto any information that made sense to him.

"Not exactly. We were both on the mission. Sheppard stayed behind alone on P45-124 to disable the device that injured him. He collapsed shortly after 'gating home." David saw a small shudder of horror flash over McKay's face, presumably at the memory of John collapsing. When he spoke next, his eyes were sad, almost pleading.

"Listen. David, I know your relationship with your brother is -" he paused, casting around for the right word.

"Complicated," Ronon said.

"Yes, that. But you've got to trust us. John doesn't need you to solve his problem. We'll take care of that. The one thing we can't do is give him the matching ATA gene he needs to hang in there a little longer while we do take care of it. And God knows we've tried everything else." McKay rolled up his jacket sleeve to reveal a bruised arm with several red pinholes.

"However you feel about your brother now, surely there's something in you that can care enough to just come with us. All you have to do is donate blood. That's it. And I promise, if you do come, you'll learn more about your brother in the first ten minutes than you can possibly imagine in a decade of sitting here in your office."

You need to stop trying to handle everything on your own and just go. David heard the words as if Julia were standing next to him.

McKay grew, if possible, even more intense, "John is my friend, but he's your brother. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

David looked away briefly, finding himself lost in a sudden memory of playing football in a sunny back yard with John eons ago. They were young men, David couldn't remember exactly when or where it was, probably just after John had finished his degree at the Air Force Academy. They had tossed the ball back and forth for an hour, laughing and talking as they threw, trying to outdo each other in distance and "Hail Mary" catches.

After a particularly good throw, John had shouted to David to run for it, charging him for the tackle. David had made a half-hearted attempt to dodge his brother before John ploughed into him, driving them both into the ground, John laughing and David fuming. John was the athlete, the play-hard-and-get-dirty kid. As a 28 year old MBA graduate and entry-level bureaucrat, David had been pissed at the tackle that represented so much about their relationship; John could not be satisfied with the good thing he had going. He wouldn't stay and play catch. No, John had to take it to the next level, up the stakes, go for the confrontation. And David? David wanted to play catch.

Now, thinking back on that day, he remembered something John had said as he pulled a cursing David to his feet. John had laughed and goaded, "If you had just run with the ball, you wouldn't have taken the fall so hard."

McKay looked at his watch, waited for all of another two seconds before he grew stern again. He shoved his hands in his pocket and tilted his head at Ronon who began to grin, the expression unpleasant. "So, David Sheppard, are you going to come with us voluntarily, or are you going to come with us the other way?" said McKay. His voice sounded frighteningly confident.

"Is that a threat?" David snapped.

McKay thought about it. "I suppose it is. We didn't come all this way -"

"I'll go." David heard the words leave his mouth, not quite believing he'd truly said them. "If you'll take me to John, I'll go with you."

It was the biggest leap of faith David had ever taken. He'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't rest until he'd brought John stateside into a situation he was certain was the best care possible. He'd also promised Julia that if he found his brother, he would go to him. He hadn't found him. He'd failed. But David had finally realized that, just maybe, these people were as worried as he was. John had brought Ronon to his own father's wake. Surely that friendship was genuine? David hadn't found his brother, but he'd found people who knew where he was. He would try to trust them. As difficult as it was, he would run with the ball.

"Let me get my computer." David stepped away and packed up his laptop and cell phone into his briefcase. The glass of water sat on the desk, half full and sweating condensation into a puddle on the glass top. David left it there and returned to the entryway where he shrugged into his suit coat and grabbed his keys. McKay and Ronon were watching him with expressions of dumbfounded surprise. When David opened the door and gestured them out into the cool summer evening, it took a moment before they responded, exchanging a look and a shrug.

David locked the door then walked into the driveway, looking for the car the men had arrived in. His own Mercedes was the only vehicle in sight, so he pulled out his keys. "Shall I drive?" he asked, puzzled.

McKay just looked at him suspiciously. "You understand that Sheppard is in a top secret facility, requiring security clearance at the highest level? Will you sign an NDA and a US government oath of secrecy?"

David nodded thoughtfully, "I'll have my lawyers look over the paperwork while we're traveling. Can we go?"

McKay sighed and rolled his eyes at Ronon. Ronon took a step closer, grabbed David's arm as McKay pulled out a tiny headset and a box that looked like a car's keyless remote. "We're ready, Apollo." McKay said.

There was a bright flash of light and David was suddenly staring through a ten foot tall glass window into deep velvety black space sprinkled with tiny points of diamond stars. A dark crescent of Earth was just visible at David's feet. He stepped back in terror, feeling Ronon's hand still on his arm.

Ronon guffawed heartily, "That was mean, McKay."

"Yes. Well. He deserved it. I'll have my lawyers look at it," McKay grumbled. "Sheesh." David heard McKay turn around as a new voice addressed them.

"Welcome aboard again, Dr. McKay."

"Colonel Ellis. Thank you for the assist. You can send us to Stargate Command, now."

"Affirmative. Please give my regards to Colonel Sheppard. The Apollo is pulling for him."

"Thank you, thank you. I'll, um, I'll tell him."

David finally worked up the courage to tear his gaze away from the window and turned to see who McKay was speaking to. The sight of a large room filled with military personnel in Navy-style uniforms was almost as terrifying as the bottomless window. A distinguished black man was sitting in a large chair in the center of the command deck. He was the man clearly in charge here, and sat studying David with a keen eye. McKay was also watching him.

David swallowed hard, fighting to keep his voice from shaking. "Where," he cleared his throat, tried again. "Where is my brother, Dr. McKay?"

McKay grinned. "Sheppard is in the Pegasus Galaxy, approximately 3.1 million light-years away, in the infirmary of an alien city called Atlantis. You are currently aboard the Apollo in geosynchronous orbit above Cheyenne Mountain, the Earth base for Stargate Operations. We're going there next."

"In orbit..." David breathed. He suddenly realized that McKay's earlier explanation might not have been as much military jargon as he'd believed. John had been injured on...another planet? David took a deep shuddering breath. No wonder he'd been unable to find him.

"Dr. McKay," he said, "I think I'm going to need that NDA."

McKay's smile was genuine and he slapped David on the arm. "I knew you'd come around."

"Stargate Command confirms they're expecting you, Dr. McKay," Ellis said after a moment.

"Beam us down."

The light flashed again and David suddenly realized just how large a leap he'd actually taken.


	6. Chapter 6

Rodney left David Sheppard with Ronon and the Air Force lawyers that Landry had assigned to get Sheppard's brother up to code on paperwork and security clearance. He was surprised and relieved that David had come voluntarily. Landry was pissed enough at him and McKay as it was. McKay was glad not to have to add kidnapping to the insult.

He made his way quickly to the SGC infirmary where he looked around quickly for Dr. Lam. He was more worried than he'd let on about the revelation that David was not a blood donor type for Sheppard, and he meant to run the issue by the local medics first; before they hauled David to Atlantis.

"Dr. McKay! I was just about to have Walter page you." Rodney turned to see Lam coming out of her office carrying a temperature controlled medical containment box. Rodney practically pounced on her as she drew close.

"Dr. Lam! We confirmed that Colonel Sheppard's brother has the ATA gene, but he says he isn't a blood type match," He simply blurted out his question, trusting the doctor to catch on. "You've talked to Keller. Do you know if that's going to be a problem for Sheppard?" Lam only smiled reassuringly.

"Jennifer anticipated that possibility. We've been in contact with Dr. Claussen's research group in Copenhagen that may have a solution. This is for Dr. Keller," and Lam handed the box over to McKay. "It contains the samples and cultures that she and I discussed. I envy Jennifer the equipment she has access to on Atlantis. Tell her Hi for me, and don't hesitate to ask if you need anything else." McKay was overwhelmed with relief.

"Thank you, Dr. Lam. From me personally, I mean. And the offer goes both ways. Any time Atlantis can help..."

"I'll hold you to that!" she laughed.

Rodney stowed the medical cargo in the jumper, then sat on a bench in the back with his head in his hands, waiting for Ronon and...David. Rodney couldn't quite think of him as "Sheppard." That name was reserved for Lt. Colonel John Sheppard. Rodney sighed, enjoying the brief respite. The two Atlantis Marines who had piloted them through the Stargate were chatting softly in the cockpit.

Landry was annoyed that they'd used the ZPM to get them here directly, but Rodney had done it anyway. Sheppard was his friend, one of the best he had. Rodney hadn't known David existed until three months ago. Apparently John hadn't talked to his family, his brother, for years. Yet, here Rodney was, killing himself to convince the guy to come to Atlantis. It didn't seem fair to Rodney, when he was willing to do almost anything for his friend, that a stranger was the one who could save him.

Voices filtered in from the crowded landing bay within the SGC's much smaller facility and Rodney heaved himself off the seat to join the crowd gathering outside the hatch. The pilots followed as far as the ramp to watch curiously.

David was chatting with the lawyers. He looked much more collected than when he'd first arrived. Rodney rolled his eyes as the group laughed politely at some small comment David had made and they shook hands in a friendly way before they trooped out. John's CEO-type brother probably felt more at home with those JAG guys than anyone else on base, Rodney thought with annoyance. Ronon threw him a look and an amused shake of the head.

"Can we get a move on?" Rodney finally bellowed, worry exacerbating his impatience.

"One more minute, Dr. McKay." Landry strolled into the room and stopped toe to toe with David Sheppard, looking him up and down as McKay had done on David's doorstep. "You are a hard man to reach, Mr. Sheppard," Landry said.

McKay cringed at the accusation, even while he couldn't help but enjoy watching David stiffen in response. David did not offer to shake hands. The two men stared each other down for a long moment until Landry raised his chin with a slight smile. He offered his own hand instead, the gesture formal rather than friendly.

"On behalf of Stargate Command, I do thank you for coming to the aid of one of our most respected officers. Colonel Sheppard is an enormous asset to the Atlantis expedition. It's not every man I'd make a personal phone call on behalf of."

"I thank you for your effort, General," David managed to say, sounding grudgingly contrite. "I'll convey your concern to my brother." He took the General's hand.

"Be sure that you do." Landry flicked a stern look at McKay who grimaced and threw out his hands. Landry walked out.

"Let's go," McKay bellowed again.

Ronon hustled them onto the jumper where David made it a point to greet and shake the hands of the two Marines who were still standing around while they boarded. They both grinned at the unusual courtesy, then settled themselves in the cockpit, still chuckling. David sank onto a bench, watching stiffly as the hatch closed behind them and the jumper hummed softly into flight. He suddenly looked like a man caught in a trap, trying to make the best of things as the walls closed in. McKay reluctantly felt a small nudge of sympathy for the brother of his friend. David looked over and caught McKay watching him.

"So, we're going to take the Apollo to - Atlantis you called it? Where John is?" There was a desperate edge in David's attempt at small talk.

"No, the Apollo would take too long. John doesn't have the time. We're going through the Intergalactic 'Gate Network, a series of Stargates positioned strategically across the void between the Milky Way Galaxy and the Pegasus Galaxy. The Daedalus, another ship like the Apollo, just completed putting replacement Stargates at Midway within the last few hours. They've been hustling to finish so we can get through. We'll have a few minutes at Midway as it is while I test the new dialing macros."

David nodded, although McKay got the impression the explanation had meant nothing to him. "These Stargates, they're Alien technology?"

"More or less. If you define Alien as not invented by modern Earthlings. They were built by humans we call Ancients, millions of years ago. Take a look."

McKay gestured to the cockpit window where a sparkling Stargate was coming into view as the jumper descended gracefully into the SGC 'gateroom. David cringed a bit. "What's it feel like?" he whispered.

Ronon grinned at McKay asking the mischievous question with his eyes. But in that moment, McKay couldn't bring himself to torment David. "You won't feel a thing," he said as the jumper plunged into the event horizon.

Rodney had never felt so relieved to arrive back on Atlantis, and that was saying something; half the time he was jumping through the Stargate just ahead of bad guys with weapons pointed at him. David had remained remarkably quiet during the half hour they'd floated in the emptiness of the Midway void. He had stood for a while in the jumper's cockpit staring at an impossibly beautiful view of the entire Pegasus Galaxy, before he returned to the bench, dozing in an un-buisnesslike sprawl while Rodney completed the testing required to get them the rest of the way. He'd reminded Rodney of John more in that relaxed moment than he had the entire time Rodney had been in his presence, so far.

David was now watching out the window again as they rose from the beautiful arrival platform of the Atlantis 'gateroom into the jumper bay above. When the jumper bumped gently onto its pad and the hatch began to lower, David stood briskly, snapping his coat into place and buttoning the buttons. He ran his fingers through his hair and squared his shoulders as he followed Ronon out.

Sam Carter and Major Lorne were waiting for them. Rodney thought Sam looked anxious as he shouldered his way past the others to talk to her first. "We got him, Sam. This is Sheppard's brother. Please tell me we're not too late."

Sam tilted her head at David who was standing nearby, looking around in idle curiosity. "John's still alive," she answered noncommittally. "Mr. Sheppard, I'm Colonel Sam Carter. Welcome to Atlantis."

David raised his chin and stepped forward to shake her hand. "I'm glad to be here. You are in command of this facility, Colonel?" Sam nodded.

"I'm in charge of the Atlantis expedition which includes a large civilian population of scientists and support staff. Your brother commands the military presence on Atlantis. This is Major Lorne, John's second in command."

David shook hands with Lorne as smoothly as he'd taken Sam's hand, but Rodney saw a flicker of surprise cross his face at Sam's comment about John's command. What was that about?

Carter smiled grimly, also catching the flicker. "Lorne will assign a security escort to accompany you at all times during your stay on Atlantis, Mr. Sheppard. I hope you'll forgive the intrusion, but it's merely standard protocol."

"I understand, Colonel." David said looking around again, "this facility is amazing. Dr. McKay says it offers John the best medical care in two galaxies, but if there is anything else that can be done, I have contacts - on Earth, I guess I have to say - that can provide you with whatever John might need."

Sam shot Rodney a look and he bit his lip to keep from grinning. "Thank you, Mr. Sheppard, but I'm pretty sure we've got everything we need on hand - now that you're here." She added the last with pointed emphasis. "Take him to the infirmary, McKay. And come see me sometime when you've got a chance." Rodney nodded.

David frowned slightly at the abrupt dismissal, but he looked at Rodney expectantly. Rodney waved him to the jumper bay exit and they were soon processing in a long line towards the infirmary, Rodney leading the way with a wide-eyed David behind. Ronon and the SO assigned to stay with David brought up the rear. The infirmary was in the main tower, a few levels below the Control room, so there wasn't much opportunity for sight-seeing. David would have to wait until after he'd saved Sheppard's ass before he got the grand tour, Rodney decided.

Keller was waiting for them and all but yanked the medical containment box out of Ronon's hands the instant they arrived to pass it off to a waiting technician. The exchanged a short spat of medical jargon, then Keller finally turned to meet David. McKay simply waved between them, weary with introductions.

"Dr. Keller, David Sheppard. Dave, Dr. Jennifer Keller. Keller is John's physician, and head of medicine and medical research on Atlantis."

David shook Keller's hand, but his eyes were narrowed and he seemed skeptical as he looked her over. Rodney was suddenly annoyed with the man. Again. What could he have against Keller already?

"It's David," David said.

"Alright," Jennifer replied with her usual encouraging smile. "You can call me Jennifer. You'll want an update on John, of course. I wish it could be better news, but I'm hopeful that now you're here, things will have a chance to improve." She paused to take a deep breath and glanced nervously at Ronon and Rodney as she went on, looking uncomfortable under David's continued scrutiny.

"John's hanging in there, but the protein abandoned by the missing ATA is building up enough interference to affect his autonomic nervous system. He's been having difficulty keeping up a steady breathing pattern. If he suffers any serious episodes of apnea, then we'll have to put him on a respirator. We've also seen some abnormal heart rhythm, which we're also watching closely, and some tremors in his extremities as the protein affects his voluntary nervous system."

"Will John suffer any brain damage?" David Sheppard was direct and to the point. Rodney twitched at the question, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

"Not if we keep it short term. Once John's ATA is active again, the protein will dissipate from his system. It's only interfering, not causing permanent damage. At this point." Her expression turned sad, and she passed her hand over her eyes briefly. "We've been waking him about once a day, briefly - and believe me, he didn't want to do it - but we've been able to get him to the surface. Until today."

Rodney watched her pull herself back to the immediate issue at hand, and he felt a brief surge of gratitude for the young woman. She was brilliant and dedicated, but also a warm compassionate person. She didn't let her concern get in the way of her medicine, but it was there when she needed it. Or more importantly, when her patient or the friends of her patient needed it. John and David were in good hands, Rodney decided suddenly. He began to edge to the back of the crowd so he could leave quietly. He really wanted to check on Zelenka's progress, and get back to concentrating on reprogramming the ascension device now that he'd wrangled David to Atlantis.

"Dr. Keller, I appreciate all you've done for my brother," David started, using the tone that Rodney was starting to recognize as his "thank you but..." voice. Rodney returned his attention to the conversation, irked at the man's refusal to simply shut up and listen for a few minutes. Unfortunately, David went on. "But I wonder if you would consider a suggestion?"

"Certainly. We need to get you wired up for the transfusion, but I'm sure you're very concerned about John, so anything you have to say, or any questions you may have, be sure to ask."

Rodney shoved closer to watch David suspiciously, wondering what he was really up to. David seemed hesitant, as if he were considering the best way to let someone down gently.

"My father had several acquaintances at the Mayo Clinic that he worked with on a philanthropy project several years ago. Among them was Dr. Joseph Wood, who is a top neurologist -"

Rodney was suddenly furious. Not only was the man the worst name-dropper Rodney had ever met, but he knew where David was going with his "I've got contacts" speech. The implied insult to Keller's credentials was too much to let go unchallenged. Rodney raised his finger and opened his mouth when Jennifer's exclamation of delight stopped him, pre-splutter.

"You know Joe, too? That's amazing! I spent a year at Mayo as an intern and worked on a couple of research projects that Dr. Wood's team had going at the time." She beamed and shook her head, "It's a small world isn't it? Small universe, I guess, even." She snapped and pointed at David's chest.

"Oh, hey. Do you know Dr. Samuel Rosen? I guess that would be too much of a coincidence, wouldn't it? Dr. Rosen's at Mayo, too. He pioneered modern trauma surgery. I can't tell you how useful spending those months in his group has been for me on Atlantis. With a military base on the city - well, you can imagine we have a lot of traumatic injuries to deal with."

"You…were at Mayo?" David asked, his voice very small.

"For two years as a research intern, after I completed my residency. You might be interested to know that it was Dr. Rosen who referred my colleague back on Earth to the Copenhagen research group that has developed a way to convert all blood types to type O, which is the universal donor. That's how we're going to get your blood into John. Dr. Lam sent a sample of the enzyme and the bacteria we'll need to make the conversion." She suddenly seemed to realize that she'd been talking for a long time and coughed self-consciously. "But I'm babbling on. You had a question?"

"No, I think you've covered it," David replied meekly. Rodney was suddenly very happy with the world. He patted David's shoulder, then winked at Keller who was looking puzzled.

"Nice try, Dave. But you're just the blood bank here, remember? I'm going to check on Zelenka, Doc. We'll touch base later."

"Bye," she called after him. Rodney grinned again. He would never forget the look on David Sheppard's face when Keller one-upped him so innocently in the name-dropping game. And he was absolutely certain that Lt. Colonel John Sheppard would find the story hysterical. Rodney left the infirmary with a bounce in his step for the first time in 4 days. David was in the city. Sheppard was still alive. Zelenka's team had been working on the device non-stop. With a little more work and a whole lot of luck, things could be back to the crazy normal around here soon.

It might turn out to be a good day after all.

* * *

David watched Dr. McKay leave the infirmary, feeling like a first class fool. Dr. Keller smiled at him, her expression encouraging and David could only laugh at himself, if he didn't scream first. She was just so – young.

"I'll show you to John so you can be with him for a minute before we start drawing blood. I'll set you up in the next bed in any case, so you can stay nearby. When was the last time you ate anything?"

David thought about it and looked at his watch. It said 11:00 p.m., but he remembered sunlight through stained glass windows as they had arrived on Atlantis. He had no idea even what time it was supposed to be on this planet. This planet? The absurdity of it all struck him and he laughed out loud. He looked at Dr. Keller with a hopeless grin.

"I…have no idea," he answered simply. She seemed to understand.

"I'll send someone to the cafeteria for a sandwich and some juice. We're going to drain you dry, Mr. Sheppard. Just be prepared to feel a bit under the weather for the next few days."

"Of course," he said, because he thought he should say something.

As Dr. Keller led him through the infirmary, David realized that McKay's comment about the quality of the facility had been something of an understatement. He walked past equipment that was more advanced than anything he'd ever seen, and he'd been in some of the States' best hospitals, accompanying his Dad who had fought with heart problems for years. He saw a staff that had more Ms and Ds on the badges than his golf club, and the woman walking ahead of him had a simple kind of confidence that he was just beginning to recognize, once he shut up and looked for it.

And yet, rather than feeling relieved, or even satisfied that his brother was truly under the best care, he felt utterly cut adrift. There was nothing left to do, but sit down and give blood. You'll do anything for your brother, as long as you're in control of what gets done. These people were taking care of everything. Julia would be laughing to tears if she could see him now, being led like a puppy to John's side. She had been right, of course. Damn her. The thought made him suddenly long for the sound of her voice.

"John's over here," Jennifer said softly.

David followed, every step feeling heavier. His heart started to race, and he realized he was flushed. He'd spent the last twenty-four hours convincing himself he was doing everything he could for his brother. But as he walked towards the bed where he could just make out an utterly motionless form, he realized that he'd been thinking in the abstract. The plans, the worry, the insistence on the best of everything; it was all hypothetical.

He'd quite forgotten that at the end of the very long day would be – John. They stopped at the foot of the bed.

"David, you can say hello, while I go get the blood pump and a fresh set of ports. We'll be starting you on IV fluids to top off what we take out. Ronon, would you help me, please?" Keller spoke quietly, her voice soothing, and David dully realized that Ronon was sitting in a chair next to the bed. The man who John must consider a close friend dropped the front legs of his chair back to the floor and gracefully pushed himself out of it. Ronon grabbed David's shoulder briefly, gave a gentle squeeze, and then followed Dr. Keller to another part of the room. David was completely alone.

John lay on his back, his head turned slightly to one side as if he were simply dozing. He was shockingly pale, except for his cheeks which had the rosy look of fever. The blankets were pulled down to his hips, and David could see thick layers of gauze and tape plastered over a good half of John's left side, continuing on under the covers. The bandage was stained through with bright red in several places.

David gripped the foot board tightly. His brother lay so still among the vast number of tubes and wires and equipment on poles and leads of heart monitors and EEG monitors, that he seemed almost fragile; as if he would fade away should any of those devices, or the people who ran them, fail him. David suddenly shuddered as he finally understood how desperate they must have been to go to the lengths they had gone to get David here – this was not a place that needed outside help frequently, he thought. It was a frightening insight into just how sick his brother really was.

David felt very small, and very scared. Until this very moment, he had secretly wondered, deep down in the darkest place of his mind, if he had enough of a relationship left with John to feel anything. He had secretly harbored resentment that John had, yet again, come into his comfortable life and shaken things up.

But as David continued to stand there, he suddenly saw his brother as an 18 year old kid, passed out on the family room couch. Once, David had slipped in from college for a long weekend and caught John asleep in front of the TV. Being the big brother, he felt it his moral duty to pounce on his little brother and wake him up. The wrestling match that followed had been among the most spectacular of the household, but it had been worth it to have the upper hand on John, for just a moment.

Come to think of it, that had been the same weekend that John had stolen his father's keys to the Porsche, and raced it on a local private track. He'd come back with a black eye, a cracked rib and a split lip; but he'd come back with the Porsche, having defended it from some thugs at the track who'd tried to steal the car from him.

John suddenly shuddered and his teeth chattered as he sucked in a moaning breath. David looked wildly around for a nurse or a doctor, but the monitors surrounding the bed remained quiet, and John relaxed again almost instantly.

This was not the 18 year old kid of his memory. This was a man that David hardly knew. A man who commanded an entire military base on the most amazing outpost in another Galaxy. And yet, David knew that John had had his heart broken in the 6th grade by a girl named Susie Miller. He knew that John had won the championship game for their High School football team by passing the ball to a linebacker and faking the handoff to draw the tackle onto himself. David had been at John's wedding. John had slept on David's couch for a week when that marriage failed.

David knew so much, and so little, all at the same time. They had never been close. But they had been brothers. And now David understood that despite ten years of silence, shame and exile, they still were.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to get started." Dr. Keller had returned with another doctor and a rolling tray of equipment. "Are you ready, David?"

"Of course," he said. And this time, he meant it.

Rodney had just about made it to his lab when a voice stopped him.

"McKay. Hold up a minute."

Rodney spun with a graceful pirouette and cocked his head at Sam. "Sure, Sam. What's up?" He caught her worried expression and his heart began to sink.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you again, but Zelenka's doing fine on the ascension device. We've got another problem. I didn't want to mention it in front of our guest."

"What." Rodney had nothing left but single syllable words.

"Deep space scanners picked up a Hive ship tracking towards us two hours ago. If it keeps up its current rate of progress, it will be here in four days."

"Why- ? How -? Who could possibly have discovered our location?"

"There's more. The Hive is dropping out of hyperspace at the expected intervals, but it's not diverting to planets as it goes. It's not culling."

Rodney stared at Sam, his eyes growing wide. Sam just nodded grimly. "Hybrids don't feed," she said.

"Michael," Rodney sighed.

So much for being a good day.


	7. Chapter 7

"I figured out how Michael found us!" Rodney burst into Sam's office, bellowing out the announcement even before she'd looked up from her monitor. "It's –"

"The device that Sheppard brought back from P45-124. It's generating an energy signature of some sort that Michael can pick up through subspace." Rodney pulled up abruptly, his enthusiasm deflating slightly. Sometimes Rodney forgot that Sam was as experienced a scientist as he. She looked up at him, her expression weary. "That's the most obvious answer, isn't it?"

"Yes and no," Rodney answered. "We checked for transmitters, boobytraps, and rouge energy signatures the second we brought it here. The device has been in containment the whole time. Without those precautions, then, yes – Michael could have found us with very little difficulty. But I don't think that's how he did it."

Sam looked suddenly curious, "Then how?"

"Sheppard. He absorbed a massive dose of that device's radiation on 124. As the mutations continue, he is generating a residual energy signature. Michael may have even programmed the blast to work that way. So he could follow up on his toy's progress; make sure he got every planet he wanted irradiated. From a subspace point of view, Sheppard's glowing like a Christmas tree." Sam nodded, but still looked skeptical.

"But surely that level of radiation isn't detectable from very far, even in subspace."

"Two days after Sheppard collapsed, we got series of unusual offworld activations. The stargate remained open for a few minutes each time, then closed again. No IDC, no hits against the shield, nothing."

"Yes, I remember. We tagged the events as unusual, and dropped memos to the 'gate technicians to watch for anything else strange."

Rodney wagged his finger at Sam. "I think it was Michael, probing for the devices' signature. We wouldn't have detected a subspace probe if we weren't specifically looking for it."

"How'd he get our 'gate address?"

"He didn't. He just wrote a macro to dial all the 'gates at once, remember. We destroyed the first DHD he used it on, but he still has the code." Sam caught on, cocking her head as she finished Rodney's line of thinking.

"Michael dialed all the 'gates, or a portion of the network at a time, probed for local subspace signatures that matched Sheppard's, then triangulated using subsequent dialings."

"It's a stretch, I know, but we have to assume that Michael is capable of that level of complexity. And curiosity. The darts at the scene must have reported that they'd seen someone leaving through the 'gate. Michael knows the device is missing. Two and two make four."

"So what do we do?"

"First, we use the device on Sheppard to turn his ATA back on and stop the mutations. We'll also add some code to neutralize the radiation signature, so he's not glowing any more."

"When will you have the device ready?"

"Zelenka says our new program will be complete in about a day. Normally, we'd want another day or two for more testing, but -." Rodney shrugged.

"Another day…" Sam sat for a few more seconds, quietly thoughtful. "That gives us two days before the Hive arrives." Rodney had no answer for that problem yet, so he bounced on his toes for a second before going on.

"There's a bright side here."

"I'd love to hear it Rodney."

"As I said, unless the device is shielded and pretty serious precautions are taken to hide its energy signature, it's going to show up on a subspace scan. I'm betting Michael isn't too worried about shielding his little mad scientist labs. We could find out if he has any more of these things out there."

"Do it." Sam smiled and Rodney was glad to see a glint of determined hope return to her expression.

"Doing it," he said. He turned to leave.

"And Rodney?" He paused in the doorway. "Jennifer was just by. She said that the transfusions from David Sheppard are helping, John's still holding on. But they're not reversing any damage." Rodney sighed.

"I understand. We need that device ready. We need to get it right." He spoke the words as a promise.

"You need to get it right on the first try," Sam corrected.

"Right," said Rodney. "On the first try..."

Between the Hive ship about to appear on their doorstep and John's weakening condition, they wouldn't get a second.

* * *

The next two days passed in a daze for David. Once he had been hooked up for the transfusion, and had his own set of IVs running into his arm, he was pretty much forgotten in the bustle around John. He'd finally slept in the next bed for several hours, giving in to the exhaustion of worry and excitement. Dr. Keller was good to her word and had food brought to him at regular intervals, but she was otherwise completely devoted to her work in treating John.

After he woke up from a second nap, he gave another round of blood, then sat in the chair at John's side for a long time. He felt lightheaded and dizzy at first, so he found himself just watching the people that came and went through his brother's life. David had always been observant; it was how he had become successful at reading people and getting them to do what he needed them to do.

John had many visitors. Ronon came by often, always checking in with Dr. Keller first, then standing at the bed with his arms crossed and a scowl of careful scrutiny. When the big man finally seemed satisfied by his study, he'd thump the unconscious John on his shoulder, grunt a word of encouragement, and leave again. Dr. McKay came by about every six hours with a laptop and a sandwich. He would draw up a chair next to John, shove the sandwich into his mouth as fast as he could, and mutter to his computer for the next twenty minutes. Invariably, a summons on his radio would send him loping out of the room again.

Major Lorne came by once a day to talk to the doctor, then he would stand briefly at the foot of John's bed, his arms folded across his chest. Lorne made it a point to nod respectfully to David each time. David felt the acknowledgement as a kind of gratitude. Lorne was clearly a man devoted to his commander, and David couldn't help but wonder about John's usual role on Atlantis.

The security officers assigned to keep an eye on David were bored out of their minds as David didn't go anywhere or do anything. During their 8 hour shift, they would amuse themselves with books, magazines, or handheld gadgets when no one was around; but David watched them leap to crisp, respectful attention the moment any senior officer appeared. The young man who had followed David to the infirmary that very first hour finally took pity during his second shift and offered to escort him to the base outfitter for a change of clothes and a shower. David accepted gratefully. Even a 150 shirt started to get a bit ripe after 48 hours of continual wear.

Once he'd acquired a set of BDUs that fit him, David followed Airman Michelson to the showers that served the military men and women who had been training or working out in the gym. David walked wide-eyed past a room where several soldiers were sparring. Michelson tilted his head knowingly at the sounds of grunting and bodies hitting the floor.

"Ronon's taking out his frustrations on the Marines again. You don't want to go in there," he said wisely.

"Does John – Colonel Sheppard, I should say. Does Colonel Sheppard fight like that? In training, I mean?" David wasn't sure how to classify the controlled violence he'd caught a glimpse of in the gym, but he was curious if John's responsibilities included regular combat, or if he served in a mostly administrative role. John had never been the administrative type. Michelson seemed pleased to get a chance to brag on his Commanding Officer.

"I've seen the Colonel go three rounds with Ronon before he got taken down. Around here, that's record. Some of the guys said Ronon was pulling his punches, though. Colonel Sheppard makes everyone train on the sticks with Teyla, so he has to do it too, but I don't think takes it as seriously." The Lieutenant suddenly looked horrified as he realized he'd said something not very flattering, and hastily gestured to another door further down the hallway.

"Showers are here," he said.

In the shower room, David was shown off to the soldiers who happened to be there at the time. Michelson garnered much prestige for knowing, personally, "The Boss's Bro." Like the pilots, the men seemed amused when David shook their hands and thanked them for their expressions of concern for his brother.

As David showered he heard the conversation outside his stall turn to weapons and training and duty schedules. It suddenly hit David that he was truly immersed in John's world. It was a world so foreign to David that he'd never before even thought about what John might do on an average day. As he was drying off, the talk turned to the enemy named Michael. The soldiers' voices dropped to low concern as they discussed some worry that was brewing within the base, but David didn't catch any details and the topic was dropped the instant he pulled the curtain aside and began to dress.

Back in the infirmary, the most intriguing visitor John received was a beautiful young woman with an infant slung over her shoulder in a long, loose sling. The woman introduced herself immediately as Teyla, and David recognized her name from his conversation with the Airman.

Teyla sat with David for a time, chatting about Atlantis and her own people, who were from this galaxy, and about her place on John's 'gate team - once she'd explained what a 'gate team was. David was fascinated. He found himself grateful to meet someone who would talk about his brother in a familiar, comfortable way. David was quite disappointed when the baby began to fuss and Teyla excused herself to feed him.

Not long after Teyla's visit, John took a slight turn for the worse, and David found himself pressed back against his own bed while alarms wailed and a swarm of medical personnel descended upon the scene. When the excitement was over, John had been placed on a respirator to help him maintain breathing rhythm, and Dr. Keller had worriedly asked David if he felt up to another round of blood donation.

Now, feeling even more dizzy and weak, David again sat slumped in the chair beside John. Unable to bear the sight of his brother slowly fading before his eyes any longer, he scrubbed his face and dropped his head into his hand.

David wasn't sure how much longer he could sit here doing nothing. It wasn't in his nature. It had taken everything in him not to challenge Dr. Keller with options and alternatives the last time she had been by. He admitted that the impulse was driven by desperation, but he was not used to restraining his instinct to solve problems. There was no problem here that was even remotely within his power to solve, which only made the waiting even more frustrating.

If only he could talk to Julia.

When he raised his head again with a restless squirm in the chair, he was surprised to find Ronon sitting in the chair next to him. The man could be remarkably stealthy when he wanted. Ignoring Ronon for the time being, David leaned over and forced himself to look at John again. He could see the struggle on his brother's sleeping face as clearly as if John were shouting out his distress. John's hands twitched, shuddering with the uncontrolled impulses of the protein that was ravaging his body.

David reached out his own hand, and gripped his brother's until the tremors stopped.

"Tell me about John's command," he said to Ronon at last, sitting back in his chair again. "How many people report to him?"

"Atlantis keeps at least 50 Marines, plus another 100 or so Air Force officers and support staff." Ronon answered as casually as if they were sitting at a coffee shop instead of sitting vigil at his dying brother's side. It was exactly what David needed right then. He asked question after question, trying to understand something about John's life, each answer only spawning three more questions. Ronon kept answering.

"What's his operating budget?" David asked. Ronon seemed amused by the question, but again he answered easily.

"Sheppard doesn't like the money stuff. He mostly lets Sgt. Major Addison handle that part." Ronon suddenly looked at David intently. "Although, Sheppard did challenge the IOA when they wanted to increase the size of the base without matching the equipment budget. He was right, too. More men don't mean so much in our situation. We mostly work in small units. But equipment is damn important. Sheppard won't send his guys through the 'gate without the right set of gear."

David nodded. Budget justification issues he could relate to. It was becoming apparent that John was both active-duty soldier and administrator. David felt a pleased moment of connection. He would have to share with John some of his ideas on dealing with an oversight committee. If he got the chance. John suddenly shuddered again and this time his whole body arched with the contractions of randomly stimulated muscles. David felt the restlessness of inaction shudder through his own body.

"John doesn't look so good," he said. He was agitated again, and he crossed his arms over his chest. His heel bounced against the floor with nervous rhythm.

"He's been worse," Ronon said with a shrug.

"Worse?" Agitation flared into anger. "Worse than this? Worse than lying in a bed while his DNA gets scrambled to the point of respiratory distress?"

Ronon seemed to seriously consider what David had meant as rhetorical.

"Yeah. He's been worse," he said at last. "DNA scrambling included," he added.

David could only stare in shock. Ronon's statement had seemed utterly sincere. What kind of place was this? How much danger was his brother in most of the time? Ronon seemed to realize what David was thinking, and he shifted in his seat to face David directly. When he spoke there was an undercurrent of rebuke in his tone.

"Yeah. This is a hell of a dangerous job. Sheppard's good at it. Really good. He's saved my ass more times than I can count, not including the times he's saved the entire city. But men and women die here. Good people. And sometimes you can't do a damn thing about it."

"Surely you take precautions! Use risk/benefit analysis –?" Ronon cut him off with a snort.

"Of course we're cautious. Sheppard's the most cautious crazy man I know." His face turned reflective, and his next words were soft, "I used to think that was a flaw; I accused him of being a coward. But it doesn't matter how careful you are, sometimes stangfodder still happens. Sheppard went MIA last month because of a solar flare! A stupid accident. Just like that. And just when we needed him the most."

Last month? David suddenly remembered that it had taken John a long time to reply to the last message he'd sent about his inheritance. "John was missing in action?" His voice came out as a low growl. "For how long?"

"About 12 days. Last month. Before we found Teyla."

"12 days. Last month? Why wasn't I informed?"

"Because he came back." Ronon spoke as if it were obvious.

"And if he hadn't?" Ronon shrugged. An alarming thought brought David to the edge of his seat. "And this time. This injury. If John hadn't needed my blood. Would I have even been informed that he was hurt?"

"Probably not."

The frank admission felt like a blow to the gut. David flung himself back against the chair. His arms flopped limply onto the armrests. In a moment, his leg was bouncing again.

"Why not?" he turned angrily on Ronon at last. "Why won't the military let John contact his family in an emergency? I realize this is a Top Secret facility, but does the Air Force expect the men serving here to cut themselves off completely?" Ronon was chewing on his lip, looking a bit like a man in a trap.

"When was the last time you talked to Sheppard? Before the wake, I mean." David blinked at the non sequitor.

"It had probably been ten years since John left and stopped coming back. But –"

"And you're surprised that you're not on his ICE form?"

"Surely, if he really was injured seriously he would have –"

"None of us even knew he had a brother until your father died. I didn't even know until he introduced you at the funeral."

This second blow was even more painful than the first. John had rejected him to that degree? David had finally started to feel like he knew his brother, just a little. He'd finally started to let go of ten years of resentment as he began to understand that John had become more than a flyboy pilot who spent his weekends drinking in local bars. David suddenly realized that he'd always assumed that John would come home one day, begging forgiveness and expecting the prodigal's welcome.

Ronon was watching David carefully and David felt his face flush, his jaw clench with emotion.

"John told Teyla once that he didn't have any family. We just took him at his word," Ronon added, twisting the knife with a kind of grim satisfaction.

David closed his eyes. He remembered John at the wake, standing in the yard on the Ranch where they'd grown up. David saw himself assuming the worst, accusing John of leaving him to bear the family burden alone. He heard John say again, "I assume that's what Dad wanted." But this time, David remembered the deep hurt in John's expression, the tightness of his voice that had strangled the intended sarcasm into a confession.

John had finally come home. But he hadn't come to Dad's funeral to ask for forgiveness. He'd come looking to offer it.

"Something's up."

Ronon interrupted David's searing reflection by standing and tugging at his shoulder briefly. David struggled to focus, looking around for the something. There was indeed a sudden burst of activity at the door to John's section as McKay and Carter entered together. They were joined immediately by Dr. Keller. Teyla and Lorne appeared moments later and the group moved towards John's bed.

"What's going on?" Ronon asked, looking at McKay. Keller began reading the instruments around John and fiddled with the respirator as McKay answered.

"We're ready to try reversing the ATA mutations with the ascension device. Keller's going to get Sheppard ready to move to the ascension lab. We decided it was easier to reprogram the one here on Atlantis, than try to figure out Michael's."

"Think it'll work?" Ronon's question wasn't a challenge, just a request for some reassurance.

McKay looked unconvinced as he said, "I think so."

That was too much for David. His emotions were raw and his temper was being held down with the shakiest of control. "Do I understand correctly that you are going to expose John to the same radiation that injured him in the first place?" McKay nodded.

"Not exactly. We've reprogrammed our version of the device to reverse the mutations that are turning off his ATA gene."

"Has this programming been tested?"

"To the best of our ability in the time we have."

"Which means?"

"Not very much, I'll grant you, but –" David whirled towards Dr. Keller.

"Doctor, do you agree with this course of treatment?"

"It's the only course we have, David. It's risky, but if Rodney thinks it'll work, then that's the best we've got."

"I'm not sure that 'the best we've got' is good enough at this point. Perhaps we could wait for a while longer and see if John improves on his own. Or, perhaps there is some treatment on Earth –"

"Mr. Sheppard," this time it was Colonel Carter who addressed him, "I understand your concern. You don't know us very well, and it must be hard to trust our judgment on John's behalf. But there are issues here and time constraints that you're unaware of. If we do this, we have to do it now."

"I do admit to being concerned about your speaking for John. Is he capable of speaking for himself?" David asked Dr. Keller who looked surprised by the unexpected confrontation that had blown up around her.

"We haven't been able to rouse John at all. And even if we could, I would expect that the protein would inhibit his ability to think clearly."

"Then what about a living will? Has John ever left instructions for a situation such as this?"

The silence that suddenly fell around David felt icily hostile, and he drew himself up, prepared to take the matter on fully. He kept his chin high, even as he suddenly felt almost undressed in the T-shirt and canvas pants he was wearing. He usually chose his clothing carefully to convey the proper authority. It was Colonel Carter who finally replied.

"Lt. Colonel John Sheppard does have an advance health care directive. It's required of all personnel serving in hazardous duty."

"Then perhaps we should examine –"

"Mr. Sheppard. I know exactly what John's directive says. As his commanding officer, I signed it as witness when I assumed command of Atlantis."

"And I'm John's medical power of attorney," McKay said quickly, but his voice was soft.

"I see." David took a deep shuddering breath. Then that was the end of it. These people were taking care of everything. He had no place in his brother's life, except, "I'm just the blood bank here."

Teyla took a step closer, her expression showing concern for David. "We are grateful for your presence, David," she said. "Your gift of blood has held John to life while the treatment was being developed."

David lifted his chin, but said nothing more.

"Proceed, Dr. Keller," Colonel Carter ordered, and David understood that she was making it clear that the decision was being made formally and to John's specifications.

David found himself pushed back against his own bed as John's respirator was removed. He was then lifted onto a gurney for travel. Barely five minutes after Carter had given her order, John was gone. And David was alone. He sat on the edge of John's empty hospital bed, thinking.

After a while, he stood up and stretched. He threw back his shoulders and walked towards the infirmary exit where the lounging security officer jumped up to look at him expectantly. Michelson's shift had just ended and David couldn't remember this man's name at the moment.

"Where do you need to go, sir?" the Airman asked politely.

"Home, Airman." He would gather his things, speak to someone about arranging transportation. Once John was back from whatever they were doing to him, and they confirmed that David was no longer needed, he would go.

"I'm ready to go home."


	8. Chapter 8

"You're sure you won't stay until Sheppard wakes up?" Rodney asked as he shook David Sheppard's hand beside the open hatch of the jumper. "Keller says the protein is dissipating more quickly than we could have hoped. He could regain consciousness in a few hours."

David shook his head slowly. "I've been enough trouble for you people for long enough. I need to get home. Just…give my best to John for me?"

"Yes, of course."

Rodney watched David introduce himself to the pilots then turn to sit down on a bench. David had gotten his suit laundered, Rodney realized. He looked just like he had when they'd picked him up. But Rodney couldn't figure out why David was leaving. He had told Carter that there were pressing matters back home that he needed to get back to. CEO stuff, Rodney guessed. But surely he could spare a few hours to say hello to his brother?

"What did you say to him?" Rodney asked in a whisper to Ronon who was also watching David leave.

"I just told him the truth. I guess he wasn't ready to hear it, yet."

Rodney had no idea what Ronon was talking about. "I guess he wasn't," Rodney said.

Alarms shrieked through the jumper bay, and Rodney automatically turned to run down the stairs that led to the control room even before the message from the 'gate technicians blared over the intercom.

"Unscheduled Offworld Activation!"

At the bottom, he found Sam already standing over Chuck's shoulder, watching the communications screens carefully.

"What's up?" Rodney asked, breathless from his quick jog.

"Nothing yet," Sam answered. But her posture was stiff, as if she was anticipating something.

Ten minutes later, they were still waiting. The 'gate sat below, gurgling softly behind the hum of the activated shield. No IDC, no messages, nothing.

"This is what I was afraid of," Sam said at last, stepping back to lounge against a chair. Rodney agreed with her.

"You think Michael is keeping our 'gate active to keep us from leaving the city."

"That's what I think."

It was at that moment that David came down the steps, looking around curiously. He jerked his thumb back up the way he'd come.

"Is there a problem? Will we be leaving soon?" Sam quirked a grin at Rodney.

"You tell him," she said. "I don't have the heart to do it."

"Thanks a lot," Rodney muttered, but he walked over to David, who was still drinking in the activity of the control room, trying to see everything at once. Rodney realized that they had never gotten around to a tour in the concern over John and the rush to reprogram the device. David had pretty much been ignored, in fact, since he got here almost three days ago. Maybe that's why he was so eager to leave. For an instant, Rodney felt a little bit sorry for the guy.

"I'm afraid there is a problem. The Stargate is – busy, I guess you would say. It may be a while before we can dial out again. You're stuck here a little longer. I'm sorry."

Rodney watched David's face flash with a moment of irritation, but it was quickly replaced by resignation.

"How long do you think?" he asked.

"I really don't have any idea. I'm sorry, again. But, hey! You can stay with John a little longer. We'll page you in the infirmary if we end up being able to dial out."

"I guess…I'll do that." David nodded politely and turned back up the stairs, but Rodney got the impression he wasn't pleased by the opportunity. Rodney waited until he'd turned the corner then sat down at his station by the DHD.

"Chuck," he said, his mind turning completely to the next problem at hand, "this is how we're going to do this. We'll wait out the first 38 minutes, then see if Michael dials back in. If he does, I'm writing a dialing program that will attempt to beat him in the next cycle. We'll try to dial the Alpha site and keep the 'gate open on our terms."

"Yes, sir," Chuck responded crisply.

"It's between you and me, Michael," Rodney muttered happily, rubbing his hands together. "You're on my turf, now."

Rodney threw himself into his work, becoming completely absorbed in the fascinating challenge.

"May the fastest program win."

"Wake up, John. You can do it, Colonel. Come on, now. Just a few minutes, that's all I'm asking."

David watched Dr. Keller cajole John towards consciousness. He was back in the chair, his suit coat lying neatly on the next bed. His shirt - well, his shirt would need laundering again, soon. It had been nearly a full day since John was exposed to the reprogrammed device, and he'd improved remarkably. Dr. Keller believed that he would begin maintaining an alert state over the course of the next day. If they could wake him up this first time. Keller's voice was getting exasperated.

"Come on, you lazy excuse of an Air Force flyboy. Let me see those baby blues."

David raised an eyebrow. John's eyes were hazel, like their mother's. Dr. Keller caught his look and grinned.

"That worked the last time," she said. John was rolling his head slightly, and rustling his arms and legs under the covers as Dr. Keller kept up her constant patter. She reached up to pat John's face lightly, and shook his shoulder at the same time. John's hand flew up to swat weakly at the touch and he frowned deeply.

"Knock it off, doc," he slurred, his voice a hoarse rasp. Keller laughed out loud.

"He always says that. I'll knock it off when you wake up, John. Now, come on. Open your eyes so I know you're not faking."

John opened his eyes. For a long time, he just stared straight ahead, looking at whatever happened to be in his view. Then he groaned, licked his lips and looked around a bit more. He turned his head when Keller spoke to him again. Despite David's ambivalence about remaining on Atlantis, and the utter confused mess of his feelings, David couldn't help but sigh in relief at his brother's return to – life. He'd watched John lie as if dead for so long.

"What's the last thing you remember, John?"

"Gateroom," he said.

"Good. That was about seven days ago. Do you remember waking up in the infirmary since then?"

"Seven days?" John sounded indignant and David sympathized with his brother's shock.

"Do you remember anything else?" Keller asked again.

"Remember feeling like crap and you keeping me awake to enjoy it."

"Now you're getting cranky," Dr. Keller scolded, but her tone was pleased. "How do you feel, now?" John only had to think about it for a second.

"Like crap." John shifted restlessly, and neither David nor Dr. Keller missed him curling into the still bandaged and oozing side.

"I'll get you something for the pain in just a minute. But for now, John, you should know that you're going to be fine. You'll feel weak and sore from the damage done by the direct blast of that device's beam, but it should heal in time."

"Knew you'd figure it out," he whispered. Keller cocked her head at him.

"Do you know what's happened? We told you a few times when we had you awake, but I didn't expect it to stick. Do you remember?" John just shrugged.

"No. I just knew you'd figure it out. Where's McKay? Ronon?" David tilted his head, making note of the names that John asked for first.

"They're busy, you're weak, and I didn't call for them. I wanted you all to myself, first."

"S'what all the ladies say."

Dr. Keller laughed and David shook his head in wonder. Even now, John could crack a joke, make someone else smile? He didn't remember John that way. He was always so wary at home; he'd so rarely ever seemed…happy.

"I'm the only lady on your agenda for the next good while, Colonel. And you know what I mean."

"Yes, ma'am." He shifted again, and this time a low moan escaped his throat. "About that Tylenol?"

"I'll do better than that. While I go get it, there is someone here you should say hello to." Keller shot David a mischievous smile and David stiffened, suddenly nervous.

"Who?"

"It's a surprise. I'll let you two get re-acquainted." Dr. Keller scurried off, peeking back over her shoulder to watch for as long as she could.

David swallowed hard and stood up. John was blinking as he concentrated on holding back the pain he was obviously enduring. David stepped closer.

"Hello, John," he said.

John flopped his head towards the voice and frowned. He stared at David for so long that David cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "It's me," he added when John still said nothing.

"Dave?"

"It's David," David said, but he was about to laugh with nervous amusement. John's frown deepened into pure disbelief.

"What the hell are you doing in the Pegaus Galaxy, Dave?"

"Saving your life, I believe. At least that's what Dr. McKay told me I was going to do when he all but kidnapped me out of my home." At John's continued wonder, he added more softly, "You needed blood transfusions from a close relative, John. Until a day ago, that was the only thing keeping you alive while Dr. McKay's people perfected the treatment that cured you. You've been very, very ill."

John was staring again, and David could see him struggling to process the shock.

"McKay brought you here?"

"And Ronon."

"From Earth?"

"You're resorting to the obvious, John."

"Why would you come?"

The question took David aback. Either John was more out of it than he seemed and was repeating himself or –

"Why would you care what happens to me?" John hissed the words between gritted teeth, then glared at David as he panted through another low growl of discomfort.

Yesterday, the question would have thrown David into a rage, or into self-righteous disclaimers. Today, after hearing Ronon's words, David was simply too weary, too confused, and too damn sick of this infirmary to find any answer but honesty.

"Because you're my brother," he said. It was all he had left. After what Ronon had told him, David didn't know if John even had that much.

"My brother," John whispered. He turned away quickly and closed his eyes.

"…John?" David asked after a full minute had passed and John remained buried in his own thoughts. John laughed weakly, his voice cracking with suppressed feeling. He scrubbed furiously at his eyes, then dropped his arms onto the bed. When he rolled his head back towards David, his eyes were bright and he was smiling slightly through a grimace of pain.

"As my brother, Dave, would you please go tell Keller to get her ass back here with some painkillers? I'm going to start swearing if she doesn't. And that's not good for my reputation."

"Your reputation as a clean-cut military commander?" David asked with a smile of his own.

"My reputation at swearing. Hurts too damn much to come up with anything good, so would you please, HURRY." John managed to gasp out the words with enough humor in his voice to sell the joke, but David could see the effort it took. John was panting again, and had his eyes squeezed tightly shut.

David saw Dr. Keller hurrying towards them with a syringe in her hand, so he just crossed his arms and stood watching as she injected the medicine into John's IV line. John exhaled in relief almost instantly, then sagged further into his pillows.

"That will make him sleepy for a while," Keller told David. "You could take a break, go freshen up."

It was David's turn to grimace at the unsubtle hint. He looked ruefully down at his wrinkled shirt. "I guess it's BDUs for me, again." Dr. Keller looked at him appraisingly.

"That's not such a bad look for Sheppard men," she teased. "It's just a good thing you two don't look alike. That could get confusing."

David's smile was reflective. "John takes after our mother," he said softly, somehow knowing the doctor would enjoy a bit of personal information about her patient, her friend. "Mom had the most beautiful, long dark hair."

"And you?"

"Everyone says I look like my Dad, except with mom's build."

"And Uncle George's knees," John chimed in sleepily. Keller laughed and David raised his eyebrow.

"I see what you mean by faking it, Doctor," David said for John's benefit. John smiled, but otherwise still appeared to be asleep. Keller left after checking over John's vitals, and David decided to find the showers again. He stepped closer to take John's hand briefly, feeling the need to excuse himself in some way now that his brother had regained consciousness.

To David's surprise, John returned the gesture by squeezing back.

"Thanks…" John whispered, then finally dropped into sleep completely.

"Sam, could you come here for a minute?"

Rodney poked his head into Sam Carter's office, then was scurrying back into the control room even before she'd reached the edge of her desk. He flopped into his chair and sat typing furiously until she joined him, leaning over his shoulder.

"We got something on the subspace scan we've been running for the last several days. It's - "

"Another ascension device?" Sam interrupted and this time, Rodney only nodded.

"P67-655. Probably one of Michael's secret little labs, swarming with hybrids or scarier nasty things."

"Do we still have control of the Stargate?"

"Yes and no. My program has been outdialing his, 2 to 1. But he's persistent. We lost the last round," and Rodney gestured to the Stargate that sat, still open, with the shield glowing protectively.

"How long before the next dial out?"

Rodney checked the program on his screen, "14 minutes." Sam nodded. "Rodney, have Lorne meet me up here ASAP. I have an idea."

* * *

When David returned from showering and dropping his suit off at the laundry, again, there was a crowd around John's bed. John was sitting, propped up on a pile of pillows, and talking seriously with Colonel Carter, Major Lorne, Dr. McKay and Ronon. With a jolt of surprise, David realized that Lorne, McKay and Ronon were dressed in combat gear, bristling with weapons. Even McKay, whom David had assumed was a civilian scientist, had a sidearm strapped to his hip, and an automatic weapon of some sort clipped to his multi-pocketed black vest.

David quietly walked closer to the group, both curious and anxious about what might be going on. Nobody noticed him as he sat down on the edge of his bed to listen in.

Colonel Carter was saying, "It's a stretch, I know. There's no proof that Michael is dialing the 'gate network from the same lab as the 2nd ascension device, but we have seen that he tends to organize his labs around projects –."

"This being the 'mess with everyone in the galaxy's DNA' project," McKay interjected. Carter just went on.

"At the least, McKay might get lucky and find some data somewhere in the lab that could point us to the location where Michael is dialing from. At best, you'll be able to turn Michael's program off and free up our 'gate directly."

"Either way, we'll have access to one or two of Michael's computers. We have a bit of information of our own to leave for him to find." McKay hesitated before continuing, "I've changed the destination on my auto-dialing program to dial 655. The first attempt will be in 20 minutes. It will try to keep the 'gate open as many times as needed to stay in radio contact. However, if we can't shut down Michael's program, then we're making a one way trip. The Atlantis 'gate will be busy."

John nodded grimly, and David saw him press his arm into his side before he looked at Lorne.

"You're taking two teams of Marines?"

"Three, actually," Lorne said casually. "Two to take the facility, one to hold the 'gate. Carter says we need to work fast."

John paused, seeming to be thinking things through. "Then don't use a MALP, they're too slow and will give any hybrids in the area too much time to think about what might be coming through next. Throw a palm scanner through the 'gate linked up with one you keep. Set it to scan for a viable atmosphere, then go through the instant the scan comes back clear."

"Yessir. That's a good idea!" Lorne caught the eye of McKay and Ronon then turned to leave.

"McKay," John said, and McKay turned back.

"This time, blow the place up AFTER you get out of the building?" David thought John sounded deadly serious, and he wondered with some alarm at John's choice of the phrase 'this time'. But McKay grinned and wagged his finger at John.

"Always with the funny, you. You're just jealous you're not coming."

"Would if I could," John answered gruffly.

"I know." Rodney looked like he might offer something more, then he just tilted his head in farewell and hurried off after the others. David saw John watching the men walk out of the infirmary. John's expression was worried, angry almost.

"Colonel," John said with a snap in his tone, "How long before the Hive drops out of hyperspace?"

Carter threw a wary look at David and seemed hesitant to answer. "It will drop out in about 16 hours, reaching the planet in 20."

"And we're going to play dead?"

"We'll turn on the cloak and hope they go away, yes. Now that your DNA is not generating any energy signature that Michael can track, we're hoping they'll think we either left, or that they made a mistake."

John rolled his head in annoyance. "I don't like it. I don't like that Michael's got our 'gate address."

"McKay had an idea about that."

"Yeah, well - ."

"Colonel, your job is to rest up. We'll keep you apprised of the situation as it develops." David saw John clamp his jaw in the expression he used right before he was about to argue himself into a fistfight. He stood up suddenly and stepped closer, wondering if there were any way he could keep his brother from jeopardizing his career. When John finally answered, David was shocked to hear that John's words were respectful and his voice was controlled.

"Sam, we need a plan B, in case they don't just go away. I recommend deploying three cloaked jumpers into orbit before the hive arrives at the planet, armed with nukes. That way we'll already be out there if things start to go bad. Secondly, we should run the data on exactly where we need to hit that ship if the nukes don't get through and we have to take it out with drones alone."

Colonel Carter looked thoughtful, then nodded. "I'll see to it. Care to recommend the pilots?"

"Anderson, Abramowicz, and Walker."

"I'll put them on standby, and I'll send them by before they deploy so you can give final instructions. I was serious about resting up, John. If this thing goes to a firefight, we'll need you to help out as much as you can."

"I'll be fine. Do you have a plan for how we're going to explain to Michael how his Hive ship got destroyed if no one is supposed to be here?" Sam frowned.

"You don't think Michael is on the Hive that's approaching?"

"Hell, no. That would be way too easy. We either need to fake him out like we did the Wraith 3 years ago, or we'll have to move the city again."

"I'll think about it, run some ideas by Zelenka."

"Good," said John.

"And about that rest?"

John finally sank his head back against the pillows. "Yes, sir," he said tiredly.

"Good," Carter said, sounding amused. She looked at David and smiled, "I'm counting on you, Mr. Sheppard, to make sure your brother keeps that promise." David shot a glance at John who rolled his eyes in disgust.

"I think John understands his responsibilities, Colonel."

David was more impressed by his brother than he was almost willing to admit. While very little of anything John had said made sense to David, he'd seen a man in full control of himself and those he commanded. He'd seen a man who was respected by his superiors, and who was fully engaged in the important decisions of this unique facility. If John weren't his little brother, he'd even caught a glimpse of a man David might be able to admire.

John rolled his head to stare at David in utter surprise at the implied compliment. David affected not to notice, and Sam chuckled. "Do what you can, anyway." And she strolled out of the infirmary.

David was lost in thought as she left, watching John watching her leave. There was something dangerous going on, something that affected the whole city, and that meant John as well - in the safety of the infirmary or not. All that David understood was that there was an enemy on the way that would arrive in 20 hours, and that these people were planning for its disturbing appearance. He began to wonder just what exactly he was supposed to do when it got here.

The second Carter stepped out of view, John gasped and squeezed his eyes shut tight in a startling expression of agony. He curled onto his side, and lay against his pillows, panting through clenched teeth. David rushed closer and suddenly understood that John had been forcing himself to seem stronger than he actually was, succumbing to the discomfort he was truly feeling only once his commander was out of sight. John grabbed for the rail of the bed and clung to it with white-knuckled ferocity.

"Go get Keller," John hissed.

David scrambled.

John was all but unconscious when Dr. Keller reached him, only a minute or two later. David paced as the doctor forced John to describe his pain, then plunged more liquid pain-killer into his IV. John continued to rock slightly for another few minutes, then his hand slid limply off the bedrail and his breaths slowed into the quiet rhythm of sleep. David ran his hand through his hair.

"How did he do that?" David asked abruptly as Keller seemed satisfied for the moment and turned to return to her offices.

"Do what?"

"How did John just fake it through an entire meeting? He was obviously miserable. Why wouldn't he just say something?" Keller looked as if she couldn't decide between being exasperated or puzzled by the question. She chose a little of each for her answer.

"John does what he has to do, David. We all do." She suddenly gave David her full attention, studying him until he shifted a bit under the uncomfortable scrutiny. "When did you sleep last?"

The question threw David off guard. He tried to think through the past day and felt like he'd been living underground, or in a kind of surreal prison where time meant nothing and there was no such thing as day or night. He looked at his watch. It said 3:00 a.m. But he realized that he'd never reset it to local time. At that moment decided he didn't want to. The watch was a small connection to the place he felt terribly homesick for. And he still hadn't answered Dr. Keller's question.

"That's what I thought," she said into the silence. "John isn't the only one around here that is good a faking it. You should get some sleep now, David, because it's very likely that things will get very busy in a few hours."

"When this enemy ship arrives."

"Mmmm. Yes." Keller quickly sidestepped the implied question. "You seem to be doing fine with the blood we gave you to replace the blood you donated, so I can release you to the VIP quarters. You can sleep there. It will be quieter and more comfortable."

David thought about it for a long moment. Surreal prison though it may be, the infirmary was the only place he'd been in the last 3 days. It was the only place that felt even a little familiar. And John was here. As if in response, John groaned in his sleep and rolled slightly in his bed.

"Thank you, Doctor. But I think I'll just lie down nearby to rest for a while." Jennifer watched him closely in concern, then nodded.

"I'll dim the lights for both of you."

David lay down on the bed next to John, fully dressed. He'd just showered and changed. But the world had turned upside down again, and he was supposed to sleep now? Unsurprisingly, sleep came slowly. Next to him, John was also restless.

David drifted into daydreams, thinking about his brother and the look on John's face when he'd called him so. He thought about John's command and how much responsibility John carried, and how well he carried it.

As the daydreams sank into restless sleep, David felt fear settle into his chest. Had he finally found his brother, had he traveled all this way to save his life, only to have him taken away again by some faceless enemy and the danger John faced every day? David twitched, sleep taking him at last into dark, cold dreams.

* * *

Rodney was dirty, tired, and he was absolutely certain that the bullet graze on his arm was infected. Wondering what gangrene felt like, he tapped his earpiece and turned towards the shimmering Stargate inside Michael's lair. It had taken Ronon, Lorne and the Marines three hours to clear the facility of hybrids. Rodney's ears still rang from the constant gunfire and explosions of grenades as the Atlantis soldiers battled.

Then, it was all up to Rodney. Lorne and the others lounged around, pretending to look alert while Rodney buried himself in Michael's lab. It had taken three more hours for him to find the expected boobytraps and disable the sequence that would have, yet again, brought the building down upon them had he simply turned on the computers. Sheppard would be disappointed, he thought. No kaboom to rib Rodney about.

"We're ready Sam. The Pegasus Network should have had time to propagate our new code by now. You can shut down my dialing program when the 'gate closes in two minutes. With a little luck, we'll dial you right back and come home."

"Understood." Sam's voice sounded thin and tinny through the tiny speaker in Rodney's ear. That, or she was just tired, too. "We'll see you in a few minutes."

"McKay out."

Rodney turned to Ronon and the Marines that had regrouped behind him. Two solemn men stood honor guard over a fallen comrade that lay under an unfolded thermal blanket. The mission had not been without consequence. There was a sudden hush as the flickering event horizon collapsed. The room seemed dark after 15 hours of constant light flooding the place. Rodney took a deep breath.

"Dial us home, Major," he said.

Lorne punched in the address and a collective breath was held throughout the room as they waited for the Stargate to initialize. When the glowing splash of energy reached towards them, then fell back into its comforting flicker, Rodney sagged in relief. He scrubbed his eyes.

"Sending IDC," he said at last. When he was certain that Lorne and the rest were ready to follow him, Rodney stepped through the 'gate. Sam Carter met him on the other side.

"Well done, Rodney. Major Lorne," she intoned formally. Lorne just gave her a closed nod, then turned to his troops to hustle the living towards the infirmary, and escort the dead to a quieter resting place. Ronon followed. Sam watched them go, honoring the somber moment. When the Marines were out of sight, she was all business again.

"Rodney, the Hive will drop out of hyperspace in about 45 minutes. Colonel Sheppard has recommended a plan should we have to engage the ship directly. But he also thinks that we need some way to cover our tracks if we have to destroy the Hive. Otherwise, Michael will just keep sending ships."

Rodney struggled to focus. He'd just spent 8 hours reprogramming Michael's dialing program. "I don't suppose we could just destroy ourselves again?"

Sam shrugged, "It worked before, but circumstances are different. Actually, Zelenka and I have been brainstorming. We think we've got a pretty good plan. Colonel Sheppard likes it, too. We just need you to go over the code."

"Lead the way."

Rodney followed Sam into the control room, stretching his arm a bit. He'd really wanted to get a bandage and some Tylenol first. Sam gestured him into the seat by his usual workstation.

"If it comes to blows, we will have to take out the Hive before it can escape for reinforcements. Sheppard's got jumpers in the air as we speak, loaded with nukes. Hopefully we'll be able to destroy the Hive with those alone, and never have to uncloak the city to raise the shield."

"Sheppard thinks three little jumpers can take out a Hive?"

"Three cloaked jumpers and three nukes."

"Right. So, how's that going to fool Michael?"

"Michael has ticked off the Wraith as much as he's annoyed us. We plan to jam all communication coming from Michael's Hive, destroy it, then broadcast our own SOS back to Michael claiming that they saw nothing here, but were intercepted by a Wraith ship on their way home."

"Michael will think the Wraith destroyed his ship and leave us alone."

"That's the plan."

"It's tricky, Sam. We'll need to scan for the frequency that the Hive and Michael are communicating on. Which means we'll have to listen to them for a while after they get here. Then, we'll need to start jamming the second we engage the Hive. If we engage the Hive. Then we'll need to broadcast our false message on the same frequency they were using and make it sound convincing. We should throw in some fake sensor data for good measure…"

"You've spent the most time with Michael's computers and communications systems. So you work on the decoy message and finding the frequency we need. Zelenka is working on the jamming. He's loading up a 4th jumper with gear. That jumper will deploy about the same time the Hive comes out of hyperspace," Sam said.

"I'm on it," Rodney said, wishing he sounded less exhausted as he said it. Sam stepped away as Rodney began to work. He was soon completely immersed in the program he'd need to scan for the Hive's communication frequency, and was throwing things into a fake message, even as he worked on the other.

"The Hive will drop out in 30 minutes, Colonel Carter."

Rodney heard Chuck make the announcement, heard Sam answer.

"Cloak the city. Dial the Alpha site and send all non-essential personnel through." There were several minutes of bustle and voices drifting up from the 'gateroom floor, thereafter, but Rodney ignored it.

The half hour must have passed, because the next thing Rodney heard through his furious concentration was Chuck's next announcement.

"The Hive is approaching drop out coordinates. It will be in the neighborhood in two minutes."

"Are we at full communication silence?" Sam asked.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Then let's just wait and see."

Rodney pulled himself out of his work to watch the room, joining the rest in the unconscious tendency to look up at the ceiling nervously. Sam was watching the display that showed a glowing red dot blinking closer to their comfortable blue little planet.

"One minute," Chuck said almost to himself, as if he weren't sure anyone else really wanted to know.

The minute passed in tense silence. The hive remained blinking on the screen. Rodney frowned and shoved his seat back in alarm as he stood.

"It's not dropping out of hyperspace," Sam exclaimed at the same moment.

"They're coming in closer!" Rodney said.

The extra 30 seconds the Hive was able to keep itself in hyperspace brought it screaming up to the planet where it exploded into existence almost on their doorstep. So much for that extra 4 hours, Rodney thought ruefully. Sam pounced on the communications station.

"Jumpers 1, 2, 3. Stand by. The Hive is approaching the planet ahead of schedule."

"We see it!" came the panicky reply from one of the jumpers already above the planet.

"They're firing! Atlantis, they're firing at the surface. Permission to engage!" Another pilot's voice broke over the first.

Rodney threw himself at the closest workstation.

Sam took a deep breath, "Jumper one, you have –"

"Wait!' Rodney yelled, grabbing for Sam's arm to interrupt her order. "They're just firing blind. They'll hit the Southern hemisphere. That's half a planet away from us." Sam nodded, hastily turning to complete her command.

"Jumper one, stand down. They're firing randomly. Atlantis is not in danger yet. Hold up and be patient for now. They may just be trying to flush us out."

"It almost worked, too," Rodney muttered.

They stood watching the displays of the Hive ship firing continuously into the ocean a hemisphere away for several more minutes. At last, Sam nodded to herself.

"They're setting up a pattern. They'll sweep the ocean from shore to shore, trying to flush us out, or hit us with a lucky shot."

"They obviously believe we're here, and are guessing we're cloaked," Rodney answered. It was a frightening thought. They'd gotten used to dealing with the Wraith that had a certain blind spot in thinking like humans. Michael had no such limitation.

"How long before they do get close to our location?" Sam asked. Rodney shook off the speculation and spent a minute at his workstation.

"If they follow their current pattern, they'll start sweeping our section of the ocean in around two hours."

Sam folded her arms over her chest, and stood staring at the floor, scuffing her foot over a seam in the tile. Rodney watched her quietly, knowing she was weighing their options, gearing herself up for the big decision at hand. At last she looked up with a snap.

"Looks like we get to try out Colonel Sheppard's Plan B," she said.

Rodney nodded his agreement, his eyes wide.

"Have Lorne meet us in the infirmary. John needs to be in on this. Can you finish your decoy message in an hour, McKay?"

"Yes."

"Deploy the jumper with the jamming equipment onboard," Sam ordered with a look at Chuck.

"Yes, sir!" Chuck replied. Sam caught Rodney's eye again.

"We engage the hive in an hour."


	9. Chapter 9

John spent his day drifting in and out of sleep and pain, restless with worry. Even through the painkiller-induced drowse, he was half listening for news of the team that had left to assault Michael's lab. McKay had been right; he was jealous. Or, not jealous so much as frustrated that he wasn't there, with them. On top of that, Michael's Hive was on its way.

John felt cut off. Everyone else was busy, making preparations. He should be in the Control room. He should be getting his command prepped for the battle he could feel was coming, however much they hoped the cloak would fool the Hive. Instead, he was trapped in the infirmary where he kept falling asleep in a fog and waking up in pain.

And then there was Dave. On those rare occasions when John was awake, he would find Dave sitting in the chair next to his bed, looking bored but strangely pleased to see him. It was unnerving. John would never forget that moment when he'd turned his head to find Dave standing there. He hadn't recognized his brother at first, so ridiculous was the notion that Dave could be on Atlantis.

Keller had explained to him more about what had happened, and about the ATA mutations, and about how Dave's ATA had kept the rogue protein at bay while Zelenka's team programmed the ascension device.

Dave's ATA? That thought alone would keep him awake at night for months.

But Keller hadn't told him anything about how they'd gotten Dave here, or what Dave really thought about being here. There was a deeply buried shadow in John's mind that Dave hadn't come willingly. He knew, without a doubt, that McKay and Ronon would have brought Dave to Atlantis by force if John had needed it and Dave had refused. Even Dave had admitted to being all but kidnapped.

And yet, there had been that moment; that look on Dave's face when he'd called John his brother and restored John's birthright with a single, simple statement. The birthright their father had taken away. As the day of anxiety wore on, John began to wonder if Dave even knew what he'd done. Maybe Dave didn't know. Maybe their father had never told Dave exactly what he'd said to John the night John left for good.

So how did Dave fit in? He'd always been his father's man, the heir apparent. And Dave had seemed to be fitting into their father's shoes splendidly at the wake. But Dave had called John his brother when his own father had renounced him as a son. And Dave had come to Atlantis. John was having trouble reconciling things.

About 90 minutes before the Hive was due to arrive in their neighborhood, John just couldn't sleep any more. He was too keyed up. McKay and Ronon still hadn't returned, or no one had bothered to tell him if they had. His jumper pilots came by soon after to receive instructions on the battle to come, and John felt awkward giving them. He felt unprepared. Carter was on top of things, but it wasn't the same.

After the pilots left, John fidgeted and shifted in the bed until Keller brought him another tray of bland food. Dave pulled out an out-of-date newspaper he'd gotten from somewhere and read while John ate. Conversation between them had been stilted throughout the day, and both of them had been relieved when the meal excused them from the burden of awkward small talk.

As John forced himself to choke down a vitamin shake, he couldn't help himself from wishing Dave wasn't sitting there watching him feel weak and uncomfortable. John had more reason than most to feel sibling competition in his brother's presence. And lying in a bed was not how he wanted Dave to think of the work he did on Atlantis. He'd become so much more than the pilot he was back on Earth.

In that moment of deserved pride, John suddenly admitted that he'd always planned to return home, eventually; once he'd reached a high enough rank in the Air Force that his father wouldn't be able to chide him as a failure. He'd almost called his father the day he'd made Lt. Colonel. But the thought of his Dad mocking the incremental rank had stopped him, and he'd decided to wait until he reached full Colonel.

Dad's death had brought him home, instead. And John felt no regret. Sorrow, yes. But not regret. Patrick Sheppard had chosen their path, whatever Dave said about their father's feelings. For John, his father's choice was water under a very dark and very cold bridge.

A sudden burst of activity at the infirmary door brought John back from quiet speculation to full alertness. David lowered his paper, and John gripped the bedrail tightly as he tried to sort out what was going on across the room

Major Lorne and a large group of Marines, decked out in combat gear, clattered into the room looking exhausted and filthy. Several were sporting minor injuries, and the infirmary staff quickly organized to get each man to a bed or chair for examination and post-mission processing. John fidgeted until Lorne and Ronon broke away from the group and approached him.

"Lorne, how'd it go?" John asked, hoping didn't sound too eager. Lorne took a deep breath.

"We had some luck, sir. McKay was able to disable Michael's boobytraps and hack into the computers. He rewrote the code that was blocking the 'gate and distributed a patch throughout the 'gate network that disables his current dialing program. McKay said it should also keep him from doing the same thing again."

John sighed with relief, then caught on to Lorne's clenched jaw and haunted expression. "Casualties, Major?" John asked softly. He already knew the answer.

"We lost Jones, sir. The lab was heavily defended. Jones went down in the first ten minutes of the assault." Lorne looked away blinking. "He took out the guy with a finger on the self-destruct button. He…he saved our asses, in there, sir."

John nodded, keeping his face neutral. Lorne was hurting, but it wouldn't do to lose sight of the bigger picture. Instead, he offered the only comfort he'd ever found after losing a man under his command. "Write your report, Major," John said. "Tell his story. It's only a loss if we fail to remember him."

"Yes, sir. Excuse me, sir." Lorne hurried off. John watched Lorne go until he was out of earshot, suddenly feeling Dave's intense attention upon him. It was creeping him out, so he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"What?!" John snapped at his brother. Dave just looked back solemnly.

"That was well done, John. Major Lorne has a lot of respect for you. He'll appreciate your concern."

It was John's turn to stare, in disbelief. Of course he was concerned. Jones was his man, his responsibility. John shook his head in disgust then turned back to Ronon.

"Ronon, they got the 'gate open?"

"Yeah, it's working fine, now."

"Good, help Carter organize the evacuation. If the IOA keeps adding more people to the damn expedition it's going to impact our ability to get people off when we need to."

"They're used to it," Ronon reassured.

"The Hive will drop out of hyperspace within the hour?"

John hated how unsure he sounded. He should know exactly what was going on and when. The frustration at being incapacitated resurfaced, but this time it was tinged with anxiety. Earlier in the day, he'd felt like he had time to rest, to recover. It was just now dawning on him that he was about as fit as he was going to get before the confrontation with the Hive. And he still felt like crap. It wouldn't stop him from doing what he had to do, but he wasn't going be doing much more than that.

And there was still one more argument he had to endure before he could concentrate fully on the Hive. He'd been putting it off, but he couldn't any longer. It was sitting right next to him in the chair.

"Carter said 45 minutes."

"Good. Keller says I'm stuck here until the hive reaches orbit." John suddenly shot a calculating look at Dave, then went on. "So I need you to help Dave get off Atlantis. Take him to Teyla, and she'll take him through to the Alpha site."

John watched grimly as shock registered on Dave's face. Dave stiffened, then slowly pushed himself to a stand. John could almost see him pulling his thoughts together, planning his argument.

"John, did you just say you want me to leave?" Dave said, his tone sounding just a touch defiant.

John nodded, but kept his fragile temper in check just enough to try to explain. He kept trying to remind himself that Dave had no idea of the dangers of this place, or what any of the normal procedures were.

"It's nothing personal, Dave. All non-essential personnel will be evacuated to the Alpha Site, our retreat base in the Pegasus Galaxy. If Atlantis is destroyed, the Daedalus will pick everybody up and cart them back to Earth. Teyla's a friend of mine, and she's going. She'll get you home, Dave."

"You're injured, John. Aren't you going, too?"

"No. I need to stay on base."

"Can I just go back to Earth directly?" John shook his head.

"Can't," he said. He gave Dave an encouraging smile, then waved him towards Ronon with as courteous a gesture as he could manage. "Ronon, take him," John said.

"No," Dave crossed his arms and balanced himself on his heels in a posture that John had to admit looked pretty confident. "I think I'd prefer to wait here, on Atlantis," he said.

"Dave –" John's voice was low and thick with warning. He was rapidly losing control of that temper.

Dave just raised an eyebrow and ignored John's tone. "I'm in another galaxy, on a secret flying, floating, alien city. Four days ago I didn't even know such a thing even could exist. And now you want to ship me off to yet another planet, with complete strangers, so I can simply stand around waiting to hear whether or not my only brother is still alive?"

John was surprised. Dave was worried about him? "Yes. That's what I want you to do. I'm in charge of the safety of all personnel, and that includes you, Dave."

"Then I volunteer to stay. I relinquish you of any responsibility for my safety, and take full responsibility for my own actions."

"It doesn't work like that. I decide who stays and who goes," John snapped, expecting Dave to get angry. John wished he would. Then John could ship him off to the Alpha site at gunpoint and feel justified in doing so. Instead, Dave just nodded his head and relaxed slightly.

"Then…I'm asking you to let me stay." Dave's voice was quiet, but not pleading. "I want to help you defend this extraordinary place."

John laughed a harsh, mocking laugh, "This is not some cheesy Western, Dave. This is real danger, with the real possibility that none of us will live to see tomorrow."

"I understand that. I still want to stay."

John clenched his fists and glared at his brother. Dave just calmly stared back. For just a moment, John felt like he was 17 again and fighting with Dave over who got the pool house for the weekend. And then he blinked.

Dave had – asked?

In all their years of sibling rivalry, John couldn't think of a single time that Dave had ever asked him for anything. Doing so would have implied that John had something to offer and Dave always had the answers. Dave always had the argument to fit any occasion. John could never manage to win on verbal grounds. He could always take his brother in a fight, but their days of wrestling for a solution were long past.

John narrowed his eyes studying Dave carefully. He was suspicious that this was some new tactic of Dave's to manipulate him. But John only saw a sincere desire to stay nearby. There was concern on his brother's face. Concern for him? And a little fear. John was asking Dave to put himself in the hands of strangers, to leave behind that one familiar face in the whole – galaxy.

David lifted his chin, raised his eyebrow and returned John's scrutiny with a confidence that John could tell he didn't feel. John glared back.

"I could carry him," Ronon rumbled finally into the excruciating silence. Dave tensed, and he and John both looked at Ronon. With a sudden malicious gleam, Ronon seemed to get another, even more terrifying idea.

"Or, you could ask him to sign a waiver of responsibility in case his ass gets killed," he said.

"I'll sign it," David said quickly. Ronon tilted his head, then looked at John.

"He's serious, John," Ronon said.

John blew out a long breath as the exchange broke the tension. He was, in fact, on the verge of laughing. It was all so – weird. Dave wasn't acting like Dave, or at least the Dave he thought he knew. Ronon was taking Dave's side?

"What the hell," John sighed, sinking into his pillows. "Dave, if you stay, you stay out of the way. There will be no defending for you. You do as I tell you, when I tell you, even if that includes ordering you to the Alpha Site later. If you can't agree to those terms, then I will order Ronon to carry you out right now."

David thought it through, then nodded. "I agree, John." Ronon was looking pleased.

"He's more like you than I thought," he said, throwing John an amused look.

"Peachy," John groused. "Go help the rest of the evacuation."

"OK," Ronon loped out, still looking amused.

Dave looked at John and John tried hard to ignore him. The brief moment of amusement faded quickly as John's thoughts turned inevitably to the Hive. He should have sent Dave off. He was putting his own brother in danger for personal reasons. Carter would probably have kittens. But – Dave had asked.

"So, what happens now?" Dave said when John refused to meet his look. John thought he sounded a bit excited.

"We wait," John said. So they waited.

* * *

Rodney and Carter met a still dusty Lorne at the main entrance to the infirmary. Ronon lumbered in just behind having followed Rodney and Carter from the control room where he'd been hanging out after the evacuation.

Once inside, Rodney was not surprised to find Sheppard sitting up in his bed, looking alert. The man had only been conscious for little less than a day, and Rodney would swear at first glance that Sheppard looked ready to gear up and walk through the 'gate. As the group gathered, Rodney looked a little closer.

Sheppard was indeed sitting comfortably, his expression fixed into what Rodney thought of as his "soldier face." But there were shadows under Sheppard's eyes that belied a lingering exhaustion. He seemed to be leaning ever-so-slightly into his damaged side, and his hands were clenched as they rested at his hips. Sheppard was faking it, Rodney decided. Once the crisis was past, Sheppard would become a holy grump to be avoided at all costs until he'd recovered. Rodney made a mental note to be very, very busy over the next few days. If they survived today, that was.

Jennifer Keller joined the group and they all settled around the bed as if it were merely a conference table, and not a hospital bed that one of the key players had been bound to for a solid week.

"Colonel," Sheppard spoke first, and McKay recognized that John was setting the bar high for his level of participation right out the gate.

"Colonel. Mr. Sheppard?" Sam answered, her eyes flicking to David who was sitting in the chair at John's head, her inflection asking the question that Rodney also wanted to ask. Why is he still here? John just shrugged with an expression that clearly said he didn't want to talk about it. Sam raised an eyebrow but went on.

"The Hive arrived early and is firing randomly into the ocean. We've got a couple of hours before it starts lobbing shots into our neighborhood," she said. John nodded crisply.

"So we go to plan B," he said.

"In an hour we'll engage the Hive. All four jumpers are in position. Lorne, you'll take command of the ground defenses should we face an incursion within the city. Ronon, you join him and help out where he needs it. I've put the base on alert and they should be preparing as we speak."

"I just checked in and they're ready," Lorne replied. "If Michael's zombies make it into the city, we'll have something to say about it." Lorne's voice was roughened with revenge and Rodney looked at him in surprise. Lorne was usually very easy going, casual almost. He was really taking this Jones thing hard.

"I don't expect it to come to that," Sam was saying. "The hive is more likely to destroy us from orbit if the shield fails."

"I think so, too," Sheppard said. "Colonel, I suggest setting up command operations in the chair room so you and I can communicate directly."

Sam and Rodney exchanged a look. "We'll keep the channel open, John, so you can monitor the situation from here," Sam said at last. Her tone left no room for negotiation, but Sheppard did it anyway.

"I'll monitor from the chair room. You'll need someone who can control the city's drones if those jumpers need help."

"Braxton has been training in the chair," Sam stated swiftly, her own features settling into stubbornness, even as John was shaking his head violently. Rodney hated to take sides, especially against Sheppard who could really make his life miserable on future missions, but –

"We need to save drones as a last resort anyway," Rodney said. "The only thing we've got going for us is the cloak. The moment we launch drones from the city, we give away our position. It would only take the Hive seconds to pinpoint our location. Even if we managed to take out the Hive in a single salvo, they'd be able to get in enough damage that there wouldn't be many of us left to enjoy it."

"I don't like it, Sam," Sheppard growled. "I don't like leaving my pilots up there without significant backup. What if -" John looked around wildly, and Rodney recognized Sheppard casting about for alternatives, wacky ideas, or a goofball solution. Rodney stayed silent. Sheppard regularly managed to come up with something, to their benefit, and Rodney was out of ideas for the moment.

"What if you could launch from somewhere else?"

All eyes turned to David Sheppard, skepticism on every face as they realized it was John's brother who'd spoken. David straightened slightly in his chair, met the surprised looks with his chin up. "In business, if a company wants to launch a new product or announce a merger without the market anticipating the move, they will often submarine the project until they are ready for launch announcements. Some companies will even leak false speculation or conflicting press releases to keep the market movers focused on something else –"

"It's going to take more than a press release to convince those hybrids not to fire on us if we give away –" Rodney snapped. But John cut him off.

"That's a good idea, Dave." John was looking hard at his brother, a slight smile turning up the corners of his lips. David just looked back.

"I thought so," he said, sounding dignified. John rushed to explain, turning back to the rest.

"I launch a bunch of drones into the ocean under the city. The launch will be hidden by the cloak. Then I send them miles away underwater until we need them. When the drones breech the surface, they'll be so far from us that the Hive can blast at the water all they want."

There was a moment of rustling and thoughtful glances as the group processed the idea. Sam was looking slightly annoyed.

"Colonel, you realize that you're the only one in the city that could possibly pull that off?"

Sheppard grinned. "The thought had crossed my mind."

"So you also realize that if you're unable to complete the plan because of your physical condition, you're putting the entire city at risk? Your ATA has been recently, and seriously, compromised. You may not be able to control the chair at all."

Rodney saw a look of worry flash over Sheppard's face, to be quickly replaced by determination.

"I do realize that, Colonel," he said. "Once I'm in the chair, I'll evaluate my ability to control the drones. If I'm not up to it, I'll stand down and give the chair to Braxton." Sam glared at him for a long moment. "Scout's Honor," John added.

Sam finally shrugged and looked at Rodney.

"I suppose the Hive could detect the drones' faint energy signatures under the water," Rodney confirmed. "But it would be unlikely. They'd have to just happen to be looking. If Sheppard could keep them deep, spread them out, and send them on random trajectories, they'd still obscure our location."

"I can do that."

Rodney saw Sheppard looking at Sam expectantly. The man was almost begging her to let him work. Rodney didn't know whether that observation was reassuring, or terrifying. Sheppard had been very, VERY sick. For some reason, Rodney suddenly wondered what Sheppard's brother thought about all of this. He turned his gaze on David and found him also scrutinizing Sheppard. But rather than calculating, as Sam's stare was, David's face broadcast fear and a recently-acquired concern that was obviously uncomfortable for the man.

"I don't see that we have many other options, Colonel," Sam gave her approval at last. "But we have enough of them that we'll get by if you find yourself rethinking your ability."

"I understand," Sheppard promised.

"Then get set up in the chair room in half an hour. It will take time for those drones to travel underwater. Once we engage, you're committed, Colonel."

"Yes, sir."

Rodney saw Sheppard's eyes glowing with fierce determination. Carter waited one more beat.

"McKay, finish your decoy message. You've got forty-five minutes."

"Right, Sam."

Rodney pivoted on his heel, then paused as he waited for Sam's last word. She looked at each person in the room, then grinned.

"Let's do this," she said.

* * *

Dr. McKay handed John a radio headset, then the infirmary cleared quickly as everyone but David and Dr. Keller immediately left to their tasks. David's full concentration was on John. His brother had just committed himself to active participation in a major offensive, and no one, not even Dr. Keller, knew the truth about how weak John actually was. No one but David. For no one else had spent the entire day beside him, watching him drift in and out of pain-filled, restless sleep.

John relaxed against his pillows once the others were gone, and allowed Dr. Keller to run one last check of his vitals and temperature. She looked worried, but resigned, and David got the impression that she was used to being overruled in medical matters for more pressing concerns.

"It's time for your next dose of painkillers," she said, patting John's forearm. "That should keep you going through the engagement."

"No, doc," John said. "No more for now. I need to be as clearheaded as possible, and that stuff makes me foggy."

"Maybe a little," Dr. Keller started to argue mildly, "but you've been in enough pain that you're going to feel it surface quickly if you don't stay on top of it. Just –"

"No," John said sharply. Dr. Keller pursed her lips, and John went on more gently, "You can drug me to the gills after the Hive is destroyed. But I've got to be able to concentrate. Give me some regular old Tylenol for now. Not the good stuff, just a dose from a bottle." He held her eyes until she nodded, still frowning.

"Ok," Dr. Keller said. She looked displeased as she left.

John sighed and closed his eyes. David realized he was resting in the moment, pulling his courage together.

"John," David began hesitantly, "maybe you should –"

"No, Dave." John didn't even twitch as he cut David off. His eyes remained closed.

"But Colonel Carter said there were options to –"

"Alpha site, Dave."

David bit his tongue. This was blackmail, pure and simple. Racketeering. Then he suddenly realized that he'd obeyed his brother's order as meekly as any other soldier. It was damn frustrating.

After Keller had returned with John's ordinary Tylenol tablets, and she had methodically removed the last of his IV wires, she gave him one last appraising look, then returned to her staff which was preparing for combat casualties on the other side of the infirmary. Dave was left to help John get dressed and he strongly suspected that the lack of a medical assistant for that task was a small act of protest on the doctor's part. Something along the lines of "if you're well enough to fight, you're well enough to get dressed Mr. Smartypants." John seemed not to care.

John was slowly pulling a black T-shirt over his head when he suddenly froze. David stepped closer from where he had been watching, ready to offer quick assistance or a quick catch if John needed it. The step brought him within earshot of the tiny speaker on John's radio headset, and David realized that John was listening. David could just hear the buzz of an urgent voice speaking.

"Copy that. I'm on my way," John said abruptly and he yanked his shirt down over the still thick and stained bandages with a hasty snap. When he turned back to Dave, John's eyes were filled with angry frustration. "The Hive's changed its pattern. They're firing at the planet randomly. We've got to engage ASAP, or a lucky shot will take us out before we have a chance to even think about raising the shield."

"So, why not just go ahead and raise the shield. There'll be no need for secrecy once you engage, will there?" David asked, even as he was shoving John's boots closer for John to wiggle his feet into.

"Doesn't work that way. Takes a while to switch between the two. We'd be visible AND unprotected for too long. That's the risk we take by running the cloak." David just shook his head.

"You really need to get these people to work on their product specifications, John. Seems like an unacceptable design compromise to me." John laughed humorlessly.

"I'll be sure to tell McKay you said that," he said. He took a deep breath and bit his lip, "Help me up, Dave."

"Keller said she'd bring a wheelchair –"

"No time, dammit! Just help me up. I've got to get to the chair."

David again checked his retort and simply stepped to John's side. John flung his arm over David's shoulder, heaving himself upright almost before David was ready to bear his weight. David automatically wrapped his arm around John's waist and his brother yelped as the ill-conceived gesture brought his hand against the tender and bandaged side.

"Jesus, Dave!" John cursed as David hastily moved his hand higher to hang onto a shoulder instead.

"What now?" David asked, hoping in that moment that John would give up and lay back down. He could feel his brother trembling against him, and hear the labored breaths as John fought to control the pain. In that moment, David realized that he hadn't really expected John to make it to the battle. He'd been playing along, waiting for John to realize how idiotic it was to insist upon participating. This was the brother who'd walked out time and time again to the disappointment of his family, even his wife, after all. This was the brother who couldn't keep commitments. Wasn't it?

"Chair room," John hissed instead, and took a step forward. Then another. On the third step, Airman Michelson, again on duty as David's security escort, appeared at John's side. Michelson ducked under John's other arm and they were moving much faster, through the infirmary door, and into the hallway beyond.

Although the walk was short from the infirmary to the transporter (and David was immensely grateful that Michelson had shown him the remarkable device the previous day) and then from the transporter to their destination, it was obviously an exercise in agony for John. He was breathing as if he'd been running a marathon, leaning hard on his escorts.

The Airman slowed down to navigate the last turn through a wide and beautifully inlaid set of double doors. John mustered his strength, got his feet back under him and he entered the room primarily under his own power. Once they were through, David immediately understood why this place was referred to as "the chair room." The bronze paneled space was dominated by a silver and blue chair that sat on an 8 inch pedestal. Both the pedestal and the room were oval, and the bank of glowing control panels that filled one side also curved with the walls in a graceful sweep. A half-dozen technicians were manning the stations.

McKay was sitting at a more mundane workstation that seemed to have been crafted out of a card table and a pile of metal shipping boxes. As he typed, he would intermittently look at the slim, hanging screen above the consoles, returning to his typing when the display finished its scrolling of indecipherable information.

"Nice of you to show up, Sheppard. We could use the HUD here," McKay said, although there was no bite to his tone.

"Status update," John said and McKay looked up in surprise, apparently startled by the breathy quality of John's command.

"The Hive's shooting all over the place, but we haven't had any close calls, yet. Jumpers are ready. You need to launch your drones, so they'll be in position if we need them."

"I'm on it," John said, still breathless, but he shrugged off David's help and completed the last few steps to the chair by himself. David stuck close to John in worried hovering, but he couldn't help but feel a thrill of something like excitement shiver down his spine. The room reeked with pent up energy. This was John's world, David thought again. He'd recently learned how dangerous that world was. Now he was getting a quick lesson in how demanding it was as well.

The low buzz of conversation among the technicians was suddenly interrupted by a controlled shout that brought the entire room to attention. "The Hive is moving! It's taking position over our hemisphere, now."

"That will increase their chances of hitting us by about 50 percent. They're also increasing their firing rate," another technician reported.

A sudden rumble penetrated the room and every surface vibrated. The whole city seemed to sway for a moment, reminding David of a cruise ship in choppy water.

"Ok, that was a close one," McKay said, looking at the ceiling and the unseen danger beyond.

Colonel Carter chose that moment to walk into the room, speaking even before she'd looked around the room once. "We need to engage. Colonel Sheppard, get your drones away. McKay, have jumper four start jamming the Hive." McKay acknowledged with a grunt. Carter flicked her eyes to make sure that John was moving towards his position, then strode to one of the available control panels.

John finished climbing onto the platform and turned to sit gingerly into the chair, leaning back against the silver filigree of the ornate seat. To David's surprise, the chair leaned a little, like a recliner, and began to glow with a dim blue pulse. David was not the only one who was surprised, though. John frowned, and David caught a flicker of pure terror cross John's face before he closed his eyes and threw his head back against the seat. John looked for all the world like he was trying to become a part of the chair itself.

"Sheppard?" McKay noticed the dim glow, and stood up abruptly, panic written on his face, too. "What's wrong?"

"It won't -, I can't –" John was gasping, and beads of sweat were popping out on his forehead. David saw John's fingernails dig into the strange squishy arms of the chair. Every muscle in John's body tensed with concentration. Another shout reverberated through the room, this time accompanied by the slight crackle of radio static.

"Atlantis! This is Jumper 2. The Hive is launching darts. I repeat the Hive is launching darts. They're going for jumper four. Request permission to engage!" David looked around, seeing the information twist every face in the room into grim determination. Colonel Carter slapped at the communications button in front of her.

"Jumper 2, permission granted. Stay cloaked, fire on the darts only," Carter snapped, then looked at McKay. "Is jumper 4 still cloaked?"

McKay was typing at his workstation, "Yes, but Jumper 2 is right, those darts are tracking Jumper 4 somehow. They don't act as if they can see it, but they're firing in the right direction. We could use the HUD…" McKay sounded almost apologetic as he spoke the last, and shot a guilty look in David's direction.

David was watching Colonel Carter when she flicked her eyes towards the ceiling, then turned to fix her gaze upon the chair. Her expression was fierce. "Colonel Sheppard, stand down."

"Wait!" John whispered, but David could hear the fear in his voice.

"Braxton, remove Colonel Sheppard from the chair and bring up the HUD."

David saw another officer reluctantly push himself off the wall and approach the chair. John remained stubbornly in place, and the desperation in his concentration was heartbreaking. David didn't understand exactly what was wrong, but he knew that John was fighting some battle that had nothing to do with the ships above the planet. And he was losing. David couldn't bear the thought of John being removed in disgrace.

"John, you need to stand down," David murmured, using Carter's words. He leaned in closer, and tried to find the words that would convince John to accept the situation, that would allow his brother to give in gracefully. "Let someone else do what needs to be done."

John gasped out a low growl of defiance, but David could see the fight seeping ever so slowly out of John's posture. David reached for his brother's hand, "You tried. No one can fault you. Let it go, John," he said.

David gripped tightly around John's clenched fingers in the only gesture of comfort he could offer. As he did so, his own fingers came into contact with the strange material of the chair, and it suddenly glowed to brilliant brightness and reclined fully with a smooth hum. John blew out a ragged exclamation, grabbed for David's hand and slammed it tightly into the armrest. John opened his eyes to look above him.

"HUD is up Colonel Carter," John panted. David looked up, too, and saw a 3D display of the planet and the ships in space glowing above the room. "Drones are away," he added a second later, closing his eyes and concentrating again.

"Colonel Sheppard!" Carter's voice was low with warning.

"Sorry, sir. Little busy with these drones. Get McKay on why those darts are chasing jumper four. Those are not combat pilots in there. They were supposed to stay back and watch."

"The jamming equipment is giving them away," McKay exclaimed with sudden understanding. "Jumper four, this is Atlantis, you need to adjust…"

McKay's nonsensical rant faded into the background as David felt John squeezing his hand and tugging for attention. David leaned closer to catch John's whispered words.

"Dave, I need you to keep your hand on the armrest."

"Ok," David said uncertainly, only finally piecing together what had happened. Somehow his touch had activated the chair fully, allowing John to use its capabilities. "What else do I do?"

"Nothing. Just concentrate on staying in control. I'll do the rest."

"But what is the rest? What do you do?" David wanted to understand, to analyze, to process.

"Dave, right now, I just need you to be here. I need you to trust me. I need you to think about trusting me." John's voice was strained and David understood his brother was splitting his attention, concentrating on other tasks even as he talked.

"Ok," David said softly. He gripped the armrest more tightly. "Ok. I trust you."


	10. Chapter 10

John's heart was still beating furiously with panic. He'd felt completely helpless when the chair hadn't responded. He'd felt like he was blind. Like he'd lost his arms or legs. No amount of concentration or effort had been able to get it to work until, somehow, Dave's hand had brought the chair under his control. Perhaps it was the combined strength of their thoughts, or perhaps it was because John had so much of Dave's ATA floating around in him that the chair had been momentarily confused. Whatever it was, it was working now. Drawing a last shuddering breath, John forced the fear aside and concentrated on the battle at hand.

He checked the progress of his cluster of drones, speeding away from Atlantis in as random a set of trajectories as he could manage. They traveled more slowly through the water than they did through air, but the devils were still damn fast. Carter was right; he was the only one that could have pulled off this little trick. Drones were not built for finesse, and convincing them to travel in a less than direct route to their destination was proving darn tricky. Even now, John was nudging them deeper under the water as they kept drifting towards the surface and the targets they desired.

He next checked the situation above the planet, his eyes flicking over the glowing HUD.

"Jumper four is still being pursued," John reported to the room at large. He felt his voice grow stronger with each use. He felt the thrill of combat upon him and the growing discomfort in his side slide into the background. For the first time since he sat down, he was absolutely sure he could do this.

"Zelenka's making the modifications," Rodney shouted back. "Just keep them alive long enough for him to finish."

"Zelenka's up there?!"

"Yes."

John cast around for the other jumpers. Jumpers two and three were firing at the darts that were pursuing jumper four. Other darts had realized that there were more hidden ships around and were firing blindly into space, creating a hazardous network of crisscrossing energy. It wouldn't be long before one of his pilots was hit with sheer bad luck.

"Jumper two," John snapped, "hold your fire and change course immediately. Jumper three, send a couple of drones into the Hive. Jumper four, move in and get as close to the hive as you can. Go hang out by the ship's engine core for a while."

The pilots responded with crisp obedience, and the darts were thrown off by the attack upon the Hive long enough to lose sight of jumper four as it slipped into the electronic interference of the ship's engine. The darts buzzed angrily around the Hive, looking for targets and finding none. Satisfied that for the moment, his ships were safe, John checked on his underwater drones again, then decided to bully McKay along a bit.

"Get that problem on jumper four fixed, McKay. We can't take the next step until I can get that ship safely away from the Hive."

"We're almost there. Nice idea hiding them in the engine noise. And…Zelenka reports they've got it."

John pounced on the radio again, "Jumpers 1 thru 4. Retreat to green zone for nuclear attack. Let's finish this up, boys, and go home."

A chorus of enthusiastic "Yessir"s followed John's optimistic command and he smiled slightly. He was wishing, just a little bit, that he was up there flying with them.

"Atlantis, this is Jumper 2, we're at green zone. Permission to launch?"

"Colonel Carter?" John asked formally.

"Launch nuclear warhead, Colonel," Carter replied with equal formality.

"Warhead is armed and away," said Jumper 2.

There was a hush in the chair room as all eyes were on the HUD, watching with hopeful anxiety as a small blue dot shot towards the Hive. The darts converged on the dot, and streaks of energy began blasting at it from the Hive. About halfway to its target, the dot winked out, along with a cluster of darts.

"Damn," John whispered. The jumpers had to stay too far away. The nuke might have a better chance of getting through if it was launched from a closer distance, but then the jumper would be at serious risk of getting caught in the resulting detonation. The darts spread out again, this time widening their circle of random searching.

"Jumper 3, launch nuclear warhead." John said.

"Yes, sir. Warhead is armed and – What the hell!"

John's heart leaped as he watched the blue dot of the nuke speed away, then saw a swarm of darts suddenly turn to race straight at Jumper 3.

"What happened?" John yelled, overstepping the pilot's panicky report.

"Sir! We got nicked by a dart. They must have been looking right at us when the nuke left the cloak. We've lost the cloak. Engine #2 is sluggish."

John looked wildly at the HUD, then leaned further back into the chair.

"Jumper 3, dive for the surface."

"They're following us!" The pilot on Jumper 3 was starting to sound frantic. John watched jumper 3 drop away from the main cluster of the battle, falling towards the planet and picking up speed. A group of 10 darts broke away to pursue it.

"Help is on the way, Captain. Stay calm and push her with all she's got. You've got gravity on your side."

"With all due respect, sir," the pilot yelled back shakily, "I'd rather have the Deadalus on my side!"

"Would a couple dozen drones suit you instead," John retorted grimly.

"That would work for me, sir."

John closed his eyes and finally launched a large swarm of his own drones out of the ocean, hoping that they had made it far enough away from Atlantis for the city to be unaffected by return fire. Keeping a firm mental grip on the touchy missiles, he directed the swarm at Jumper 3 and the pursuing darts. Sure enough, the Hive immediately began firing at the water where the drones had emerged.

"Don't flinch, Captain," John warned his jumper pilot a few seconds later, his voice raspy with concentration. "The drones are going to pass you pretty darn close. Once the darts are off your back, continue to the surface, hide yourselves on the mainland."

"Yes, sir."

The darts were gaining on Jumper 3, and John urged the drones on even faster. It was a race to the middle, and the darts had a head start. A couple of the lead darts got close enough to fire on the damaged jumper and the pilot began evasive maneuvers, which helped avoid the bursts from the enemy weapons, but slowed the craft down even further.

"Come, on. Come, on," John whispered to his drones.

The jumper took a glancing blow and spun wildly, just as the drones screamed past. It took John's full concentration to direct the drones around the flailing ship without hitting it. The second they were safely past, John set the drones loose to find their own targets, and the little glowing missiles dove into the cluster of pursuing darts with something like glee.

The darts scattered, then fled, then exploded with satisfying destruction. John let out the breath he'd been holding with a long slow whistle. Jumper 3 was nearly at the surface, forgotten for now. Suddenly remembering the nuke, John flicked his attention back to the Hive.

"Did the nuke get through?" he asked.

"No," replied Rodney. "It was intercepted again. Although it took out a whole bunch of darts, this time."

Double Damn! They only had one nuke left. He had a decent arsenal of drones still swimming in the ocean, but he didn't think it would be enough to finish off the Hive. They had to get that last nuke through.

Another rumble rattled the walls, louder this time, and the room swayed even more sickeningly. John closed his eyes and swallowed hard. That was too close, he thought. He shifted a bit in the chair, and felt the ache in his side flare into a pinch. His pain meds were wearing off more quickly than he'd been hoping. Sometimes he wished Keller weren't right ALL the time.

"The Hive's returning to random fire," Rodney said unnecessarily. "They're decreasing their target range again, too. Those drones kept them off our exact location, but it still helped them narrow it down."

"We need to take that Hive," Carter snapped, sounding frustrated. "John, launch the rest of your drones at the Hive. Prioritize weapons and engines. Maybe we can disable it enough to get a nuke through."

"Copy that," John said, but he was still thinking furiously even as he brought all but a reserve handful of the swimming drones out of the water. They needed to launch from closer, so the nuke could get through. They needed to drop the thing in their laps, actually. The Hive again fired into the water where the drones had emerged. A sudden idea was taking shape, embarrassing in its obviousness. He turned his attention to the room again at last.

"McKay," he said, "can those nukes go off on a timer?"

"No, we loaded the jumpers with Mark 12 lightweight missiles. They're only designed to go off on impact after being armed. They're the only ones small enough to fire from a jumper. No electronics on board."

Damn again. So much for obvious.

As his armada of drones drew near to the Hive, a second, much larger, wave of darts poured out of the ship. John was momentarily taken aback.

"Why are they launching more darts?" he asked of no one in particular. The jumpers were still cloaked, and darts weren't any threat to drones.

"Maybe they think they can shoot down the drones?" McKay hypothesized, echoing John's thought.

John snickered to himself. Let them try. He put his mind to his large cluster of missiles, and spread them out into waves, urging the first wave on with bloody anticipation. John had read through McKay's research on the targets he would need to hit to exact the most damage. He decided upon his primary targets, then sketched a mental list of secondary targets. As the first wave finally neared the battle zone, John clamped down on the drones, guiding them towards his targets rather than the distracting darts they kept veering towards.

A kilometer from the Hive, he lost the first drone to a dart and cursed under his breath. He concentrated even more carefully on sending them where he wanted and so he was surprised when the second drone impacted with a dart well ahead of its destination. A moment later he was having to dodge and weave the drones around a massive wall of darts in his path. More darts were hit, more drones were detonated and his first wave was quickly whittled down into a mere handful of survivors.

"What the hell?" John gasped as he stubbornly drove the last three drones into only the first of his primary targets, striking the Hive's main weapons array, but with far less destruction than he'd been expecting.

"The darts are running themselves into the drones. They're defending the Hive with – suicide runs." The distaste in Rodney's voice was evident. John tended to agree. He had no love for the hybrids, but it still seemed a bit callous to use them that way, even for Michael.

"I'll spread the second wave out," John said.

The second wave was reaching the battle and John spread the drones into a wide circle. When he brought them in, they were approaching from all sides. The tactic worked a bit better, and he saw his first two primary targets go up in satisfying fireworks before all the drones were depleted. But it still wasn't enough. He'd still lost more than half of his wave before they ever got to the Hive.

How the hell were they going to get the nuke through? It would need to be set down practically on top of the ship to have any chance of going off near it. Especially if the darts were willing to jump into its path. John suddenly decided to try out the first part of the plan he'd been working on earlier. Maybe the second part would come to him later.

"Jumper 1," he said quickly, wondering if Carter would overrule him. "Enter the red zone and take the jumper in close to the Hive. You're going to soft drop the nuke right over the Hive's main drive and then get the hell away before something bumps into it."

John suddenly hoped that something would impact it – after his jumper was safely away, of course. Maybe a kamikaze dart would ram the thing and do their job for them. Hey, was looking like a more complete plan after all.

"Copy that, Colonel," Jumper 1 responded, and John watched warily as the HUD displayed a lone dot entering into the chaos around the Hive.

"I'm sending in my third and final wave," John announced. "Jumper 1, I'll keep the darts focused on the drones while you fly in."

"Understood. There's still a lot them out here, though."

John had to agree. The Hive must have emptied itself of every last dart. His third wave reached the battle zone and John threw his concentration into getting the drones through another wall of suicidal defense. He was keeping more of his missiles this time by simply flying them in standard evasive patterns, and he still had nearly three quarters of his count when the pilot on Jumper 1 broke into the radio with sheer terror in his voice.

"Atlantis! We took a glancing blow. Damn unlucky shot. We've lost the cloak; there's no way in hell we're getting any closer to that Hive!"

John flung his mind to the jumper, yanking half of his drones along with it.

"You're more than half-way there, Jumper 1," John said. "Stay on course. I'll clear your path with drones. I already took out most of the Hive's firepower on its starboard side. That nuke has got to get through. Do you understand, Captain?"

"Yes, sir." John's heard the resigned fear in the pilot's voice, and understood all too well. He'd been in that man's shoes, more than once. Never in a million years would he have believed, back then, that one day he would be the voice on the other end of the radio, giving the command to succeed or die.

"You'll do fine," John reassured. "Follow the flashing lights, Captain."

John's drones surrounded the Jumper in a wide sphere of glowing dots. The trick was to slow the drones down enough to pace the jumper, and he found himself fighting every second of the maneuver to keep the drones in formation. A couple of darts at the rear began firing into the sphere, and John released two of the drones to take them out.

More darts buzzed their path, throwing themselves into the drones and whittling down his numbers.

"Jumper 1, fire at will on targets in your path. I'll keep my drones in escort formation." John realized his voice was sounding breathy again, and he felt just the bare tickle of some internal distraction he didn't have the time to sort out right now. The shell of the drone escort grew thinner and thinner as the darts impacted with them one by one. Jumper 1's own pilots were doing a fine job of clearing the path ahead, so John dropped a few of his lead escorts back to shore up the rear defenses.

"Just a few more kilometers," John said. "Jumper 1, you'll need to slam on the brakes, drop your package, then get out of there. If you've got any momentum on you, the nuke will drift away too far from the ship when it's left behind."

Jumper 1 was too busy to respond with more than a, "Yeah," but John knew they understood. He braced himself for the moment when the jumper would be most vulnerable as it paused next to the Hive, and brought the drone escort in tighter. The last kilometer to the Hive was an exercise in terror. It felt as if John were there himself, except flying 30 ships all at the same time; 30 ships that all had a mind of their own and really didn't want to be doing what they were doing.

"Almost there…" he whispered, gritting his teeth, forcing himself to maintain concentration.

The jumper screamed over the Hive's engine core, slammed on the brakes for a bare instant, then zipped forward again.

"Warhead is deployed," the pilot shouted exuberantly. "We did it! I can't believe we really did it!"

"Stay focused, pilot!" John snapped. He still had to get the ship out of there, and with barely a quarter of the drones he'd taken them in with. "Make for the surface. Hook up with Jumper 3." John flinched at every detonation of his remaining drone escort. The jumper was pulling away fast, but there was a phalanx of darts on its tail.

Just as John was wondering if he had enough drones left to take on the darts directly to get the jumper away, a barrage of drones appeared out of nowhere and decimated the pursuit. John blinked, and sent his own drones into the fray. In a moment, the space around Jumper 1 was clear and had reached the planet's troposphere. The remaining darts retreated back to the Hive.

"Thanks for the assist, Jumper 2!" John heard Jumper 1 call over the radio.

"Any time, Jumper 1," came the hearty answer, "just remember us when they're down to the last brownies in the cafeteria."

John chuckled, taking a moment to rest. It was only partially a good idea. The second he started to pay attention to himself, he realized that he was shuddering with reaction, releasing the tension of the battle into quivering muscles and an achingly clenched jaw. His side, however, was no longer aching. Instead, the pain had grown into a breath-taking, mind numbing vice of agony around his middle, and he sucked in a quick breath, trying to push it back down. They weren't finished yet.

"What's the status on the nuke?" he ground out, hoping to slide back into the comfort of combat focus.

"It's still floating around just above the Hive. The darts seem to be leaving it alone," McKay replied. John nodded, trying to concentrate on the HUD, but was again distracted by a poke at his shoulder, and a quiet voice nearby.

"John, you're bleeding," Dave said, his hand still on the armrest underneath John's. John had forgotten that Dave was even in the room. His side did feel warmer than before. He tried for a reassuring grin.

"Keller's going to be pissed," he whispered back. Dave just frowned.

"Colonel Carter, the Hive is moving." One of the technicians in the room pointed briefly to the display at his station. "Colonel Sheppard damaged its subspace engines significantly so their pace is very slow, but they'll still move completely away from the stationary warhead in 7 minutes."

"Can they go to hyperspace?" Carter asked.

"It's unclear. They took some damage to the main drive, but we can't tell from here how bad it is."

"We need to detonate that warhead," John said. He wished he didn't feel so damn tired, all of a sudden.

"How?" McKay said. "If the darts won't touch it, it'll float there forever, or until re-entry into the atmosphere sets it off."

John brought his last five drones up from the planet, for the first time wondering how long the things could stay up and running before they exhausted whatever it was they used for power.

"If the darts won't touch it, I'll detonate it with a drone," he said. There was a collective moment of silence throughout the room.

"You're going to try to hit a target the size of a sofa from 1000 miles away with a drone?" McKay scoffed, sounding like he genuinely thought John was joking.

"No. I'm going to actually hit a target the size of a sofa form 1000 miles away," John retorted. He wished he felt as confident as he sounded. He wished he sounded as confident as he'd intended, but his voice was sounding raspy and forced again.

"Colonel, you need to detonate the warhead in the next 5 minutes, or it will be out of range to do any significant damage," Carter said.

"Understood."

He split the remaining drones into two waves, grouping the first three tightly together as they approached the Hive. The darts were still buzzing around and again grouped together to protect the Hive. John guided his drones into the fray, dodging and weaving the darts, and concentrating furiously on the fine control he would need to hit the very small target.

The drones had very nearly made it to the Hive when he suddenly gasped at a spike of pain that seared along his damaged side. He lost control of one of the drones and it careened off into a dart, like a dog after a squirrel. The resulting explosion threw the other two off, and they exploded uselessly into the debris.

"Damn," John whispered, beginning to pant against the pain. He had two more drones. He took control, this time keeping them a bit further apart as they made their run at the Hive. The darts seemed energized by their recent victory and almost fell over themselves as they each tried to be the one that caught, or tempted a drone away. John took them well around the battle zone, trying for another vector, and found the drones blocked at every avenue.

Finally finding a small window, he plunged the drones towards the hive. In the last kilometer, a dart finally managed to fling itself into his lead drone's path before John could steer it out of the way. Hanging onto the second and final drone with sheer willpower, he managed to get it around the debris.

John felt sweat trickle down his temple as he put every ounce of his remaining strength into guiding that final drone. He thought he might have stopped breathing, so intense was his concentration. When the drone reached the Hive, he sent it skimming along the fuselage, looking for the floating nuke. He almost lost the drone when it dove towards the Hive, trying for the larger and more obvious target that was so tantalizingly close.

Just when John wasn't sure he was going to be able to keep the drone away from the Hive for a moment longer, he spotted the Nuke drifting just over the Hive's secondary landing bay, somewhere along the middle of the ship. Eagerly, he aimed the drone towards the stationary missile, and urged it along with desperate nudges. The drone raced towards the target. John nudged it one more time as the distance closed. It bore down upon the warhead.

And missed.

John sucked in a terrified breath, yanked on the drone to turn it around for another pass. The darts were hovering worriedly all over the Hive, but they seemed to know not to engage the warhead. One made a halfhearted attempt to intercept the drone on its turn, but John pulled it low to the surface of the Hive and sent it back towards the warhead. It was a short run this time, and John slowed the drone down instead of urging it along. He even felt his own heart slowing as the effort of guiding the drone consumed him.

The little glowing missile, bobbed defiantly once towards the Hive, then locked onto the metal casing of the nuke at John's insistent urging. With a final burst of enthusiasm, the drone plowed into the Mark 12 Nuclear warhead – and exploded.

The warhead detonated an instant later, ripping into the Hive and splitting it almost in half even before the secondary explosions from the Hive's own power sources blew it into tiny pieces. The large dot on the HUD above John's chair glowed for a moment, then winked out. John closed his eyes.

"That's a kill! That's a kill!" Jumper pilots 2 and 4 were screaming into the radio, and a more reserved cheer rose up from the technicians all around John. Colonel Carter's voice cut through the happy babble.

"Jumper 2 and 4, stay at the scene and get a damage report ready. McKay send our decoy message to Michael. We've got a few darts to worry about, but we'll leave the cleanup for the drones once we've got the city's shield up."

John heard her speaking, but he understood nothing of her words. He sat shaking in the chair, biting his lip to keep himself from writhing. When he managed to unclench his hand enough to let go of the armrest and press it into the side that was screaming in pain, he realized that his T-shirt was damp and cold. The bloody flesh underneath had soaked through layers of bandages and fabric.

"John, you don't look so good," Dave said, moving his hand from the armrest to John's shoulder. The chair dimmed and ceased humming.

"Don't feel so hot," John replied, giving up the fight to stay still. He curled into his side, shifting in the seat.

John felt Dave's hand leave him, and a moment later he heard his brother speaking urgently to someone across the room. His rapid panting became the low moans of controlled screaming. Someone stepped up to the chair and punched him on the other shoulder.

"Sheppard! That was amazing. I've never seen anyone fly drones like that. Who needs jumpers, eh?" John had his eyes tightly squeezed shut, but McKay's distinctive voice identified his oblivious friend easily.

"Thanks, McKay," John growled, feeling the pain rising up around him like a wall, shutting out everything but its deafening roar as it crept ever higher.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Do you need anything? A glass of water?" Rodney said, finally catching on. John snorted weakly, then hissed as yet another spike was driven into his side. The noises in the room were fading, even as the roar grew louder. He fought for one last sentence, his voice fading away with the rest.

"No, I just think…I'm going to pass out now, Rodney," he said.

"Oh. OK, then."

And John let the roar take him.

* * *

When David returned to the chair from arranging for medical assistance, McKay was pressing his hands into John's shoulders to keep him from slumping forward and out of the chair. David quickly grabbed for the shoulder on his side and gently lifted John's drooping chin to prop his head back against the chair. John's skin felt clammy with drying sweat. His shirt was soaked around the neck with more sweat, and was damp all down one side with blood. He was breathing in fast, shallow breaths.

"John, what have you done to yourself?" David whispered. He was still struggling to process what had just happened. Anxiety, excitement, fear and triumph were all pulsing through him in uncontrollable bursts. How did John live like this? How could he handle such intensity on a daily basis? How could anyone handle it?

"He, uh, he's just passed out," McKay said. He sounded like he was trying to be reassuring. "I'm sure he'll be fine." David shook his head.

"Does he do this often? Pass out, I mean?" David couldn't imagine a life where such a thing was considered normal.

McKay thought it over, then admitted with a shrug, "No, not actually. It takes a lot to take Sheppard out. It's quite alarming actually." David's eyes grew wider, and he gripped John's shoulder even more tightly.

Colonel Carter joined them as Dr. Keller and a medical team reached the chair room and began the process of checking John's vitals. David stepped away to let the doctors do their work, then flicked a glance at the Colonel's concerned face. He suddenly wondered if she was still angry that John had disobeyed her command to leave the chair. He was already worried, jumpy even, and felt a sudden urge to protect his brother's reputation. Maybe a little damage control would distract him from the sight of John's limp body being laid gently onto the waiting gurney.

"Colonel, I'm sure John regrets his earlier insubordination. My brother can be quite stubborn at times. I'm certain he meant no disrespect." He was pleased the words came out as he'd intended, even though he heard his voice shaking slightly.

Carter just looked at him, a puzzled grin replacing the stern worry. "On the contrary, Mr. Sheppard. I knew what I was getting into when I gave John permission to try. I would have been more concerned if he had relinquished the chair any easier. It's not in his nature to give up. Even if that means insubordination." She added the last with a chuckle.

Dave nodded in wonder. These people understood his brother so easily. In that instant, David knew that John had truly found his place. This was where John belonged – with people who admired and respected him, and forgave him those traits that had frustrated John's blood family for so long. With this new revelation, David finally caught a glimpse of the nature of the calling that had pulled John away from an already unforgiving family. It was a calling that John himself had suffered for. David had seen his brother's devastation as John's marriage fell apart.

"My brother is – a remarkable man," David said.

"Yes he is, Mr. Sheppard." Colonel Carter's voice grew suddenly hard and David blinked as he realized she was about to admonish him. "You may not have understood everything that was happening this past hour, but John just saved your life, and the lives of everyone in this city. No one but John could have pulled off those stunts with the drones. His skill with Ancient technology makes him more than remarkable. It makes him uniquely remarkable. The next time John asks for your help, I hope you'll consider doing so more quickly."

David was properly chastised, although he allowed nothing of the admission into his expression.

"I just hope that it won't be the imminent death of my brother that brings me back to Atlantis again, Colonel."

David managed to convey both sincerity and a mild admonition of his own. When Carter smiled it was an expression of rueful resignation. She couldn't make the promise David was asking of her. They both watched for a moment as the paramedics finished their triage and prepared to move John back to the infirmary. He was still very pale, and Dr. Keller had him on oxygen in addition to a fresh set of IVs.

"I do too, David," was all she could say. "I do, too."


	11. Chapter 11

David followed Airman Michelson down the hallway towards the infirmary doors, then reached to shake the man's hand as they stopped at the threshold.

"Thank you for your service, Mike," David said as he also gave the man a casual slap on the arm. He smiled. "And the clothes. I appreciate all your help during my visit here. Please pass my regards to the whole base. It's been a real pleasure to be among such fine soldiers."

Mike Michelson grinned in embarrassed pleasure, "You're welcome, sir. Any family of the Colonel's is kindof like family of ours." He blushed as if he'd just realized how corny that sounded, but David understood. These soldiers had close ties. They lived and died together. And John was the type of leader that stayed among his troops, rather than above them.

"Goodbye, sir," Michelson threw a wave that was just almost a salute, then he turned and strolled away to other duties.

David watched him go for a moment, then walked into the infirmary. He felt more rested than he had the previous 5 days he'd been on Atlantis. Keller had taken John's comment about drugging him to the gills a bit over enthusiastically, so David had had plenty of time this past day since the battle to rest and, he had to admit it, relax. The VIP quarters were quite comfortable.

Yesterday, McKay and Ronon had finally been freed from their responsibilities for a time, and had insisted upon a tour of the entire facility. David had apparently responded with appropriate awe at the inspiring views and mind-numbing technology, for he had been invited to the evening meal with many of John's friends.

All were insatiably curious about John's childhood. Since they, graciously?, shared many anecdotes about John's adventures in the Pegasus Galaxy, David eventually felt obliged to tell a story or two of his own that wouldn't embarrass John too much. Considering the tenuous nature of his rapport with his brother, David took the consideration very seriously.

Ronon particularly enjoyed the story of when John at 10 built a tree house in the back yard of their New York manor. The shaky hodgepodge of a fort had been constructed from cardboard boxes and a broken shipping crate John had found behind their school. An instant eyesore, the fort quickly drew the horror of the neighborhood and their father ordered John to tear it down. John stayed in the tree house for two days, defending it with rocks and homemade mud "grenades." They had only gotten him and the fort down when he finally fell asleep and fell out, breaking his arm in the process.

Their family had moved full time to the Ranch shortly after that incident, and John had been happier tramping over acres of pasture and climbing through horse barns – for a time.

David was thinking about that kid who never stopped playing – hard – as he neared the corner into the wing of the room where John's bed was located. John's friends had been amused by the story, not only because they saw something of their friend of the present in it, but also because they saw a surprising difference. As Ronon put it, "I always thought Sheppard was too lazy to go to all that trouble."

According to John's friends, John had found a peace, a lazyness, as an adult that he'd never had as a child; that he'd never had at home. David only hoped he might see that side of his brother some day.

A brief squall of protest pulled David to the present, and he hesitated at the edge of the room, glancing towards John's bed.

Teyla was just sitting down beside John, her baby swaddled and cooing in her arms. John was showered and dressed in a loose set of BDUs. He sat against the pillows in a comfortable sprawl on top of the covers. Curious about how John acted outside of David's presence, and perhaps a bit nosy about John's relationship with the young woman, David stayed where he was, watching unnoticed as John reached out to pinch the baby's cheek.

"Hey there, tiger," John said happily. Teyla smiled brightly.

"He has been sleeping much better. Last night, I actually got six hours of rest in a row." John looked surprised and very pleased with himself for some reason.

"Really?" he said, reaching with both hands for the baby. Teyla handed the infant over for John to hold up in the air over his face, smiling when the baby wriggled happily. "Good job, kiddo. You keep listening to your Uncle John. I told you that would make your momma happy. Now remember the other stuff, too."

Teyla looked puzzled, even as she was still smiling. John handed the baby back. "How are you feeling, John?" Teyla asked, once the infant was settled in her lap again. John shrugged.

"Tired. Crappy. Side hurts. The usual."

"You will be well soon. In the meantime, I do not release you from your promise to babysit during breakfast."

"I have to show Dave to the 'gate this morning, but starting tomorrow we're on." He jabbed at the baby's tummy with a fake buddy punch. "You and me, kid. We got lots to talk about." Teyla cocked her head and David could just make out her suspicious glare.

"What exactly have you been telling him, John?"

John feigned ignorance with overplayed offense, "Nothing! Really." Teyla continued to stare and John flinched under the scrutiny. "What? He's like, 6 weeks old. He won't remember anything?"

Teyla shook her head in mock disgust and David saw John wink at the baby when her head was turned, only to resume a look of complete innocence once Teyla returned her attention to him.

David decided that it was perhaps the right time to rescue his brother. He took a deep breath and a step back before strolling casually into sight. John and Teyla looked up at his approach, Teyla smiling and John smirking.

"Hello, Teyla," David said warmly, unbuttoning his suit coat and shoving his hands into his pants pockets. He would be forever grateful to the young woman for showing him yet another side of his brother he'd never otherwise have had a chance to see. The sight of John bouncing the baby over his head would stay with David for a long time. John suddenly looked wary, presumably at David's familiarity.

"Teyla? You've met my brother Dave?"

"Yes. We had a chance to talk for quite some time last evening at dinner while you were still recuperating." David had told John as much, while David sat with him well into Atlantis' night. But John had been a bit loopy on the medicines he'd been given. Even now, David noticed just a bare hint of sluggishness to John's expressions.

"That just really doesn't sound good."

"On the contrary," David couldn't resist, "Our conversation was quite – informative." Teyla tilted her head, recognizing that David was teasing her friend.

"Wasn't me. Didn't do it. Teyla lies. A lot. Big problem of hers, actually." John feigned righteous indignation then leaned just a bit heavier into his pillows. He was still weak, David thought. And now David knew his brother's capacity for hiding the fact. Teyla swatted at John's elbow.

"I am not the liar among us, John. You led me to believe you had no family, and yet here David stands." The look Teyla threw David said very clearly that she had spoken to Ronon and that she knew all about David's aborted attempt to leave. David stiffened, wondering how John would answer.

"I…" John paused, thinking with his eyes closed. "I didn't think I did," he said at last. When he opened his eyes again and faced David squarely, John's expression was both plea and challenge.

David also thought hard before replying. "I think both of us have lived for a long time under false assumptions," he said carefully. John held his eyes for a long moment, then nodded with a sharp jerk, accepting the terms of their fledgling reconciliation.

Teyla nodded happily, as if pleased by the direction her comment had taken them.

"I will leave you to say your goodbyes," she said. John nodded, still looking thoughtful. He reached out his hand to stroke the baby's cheek one last time, then threw his arm behind his head in a comfortable lounge.

"Come by later, will you? Keller's still mad at me. I don't want to be left alone with her."

"If she is angry, you have only yourself to blame, John," Teyla scolded. John threw her a puppydog look and she smiled. "But I will come protect you from Jennifer until you are well enough to do so yourself."

John frowned, realizing that his manipulations had been turned against him rather badly. Before he could find a response, Teyla stood and turned to leave.

"I will bring my sticks," she said and walked lightly out of the infirmary.

John cocked his head, then laughed, scrubbing the back of his hair with one hand before letting his arms flop tiredly against the mattress. He looked at David.

"They been treating you right, Dave?" he asked. David stepped closer so John wouldn't be tempted to sit up.

"With the proper respect due a brother of the military commander of this base."

"Then I apologize and I'll make them be nicer the next time," John said with laughing self-deprecation.

"I hope there is a next time," David said. John just nodded, then looked at his watch.

"Time to go." He took a deep breath, then pushed himself to the edge of the bed. David offered him a hand, and, to David's surprise, John took it. Once John was standing, he stretched a bit, favoring the re-bandaged side, and looked warily across the room to where Dr. Keller was typing at a portable workstation.

"I'm leaving now, Doc!" John bellowed, then cowered as if expecting a blow.

"Fine! See if I care. And if you're not back here in half an hour, Lt. Colonel John Sheppard, I will put you in a medically induced coma for a week." Keller yelled the threat without so much as looking away from her screen, but David thought her fingers were slapping a bit harder against her keyboard. She did seem annoyed, and David better understood John's trepidation.

"Been there! Done that!" John bellowed back, then began tugging on David's sleeve to make for the door. "Let's go. She's a tyrant," he muttered, but he was grinning.

When he glanced back over his shoulder, David saw Dr. Keller grinning, too. The young woman had come to sit with David while John dozed yesterday, and David found the chance to express his gratitude for her exemplary care. They had exchanged promises to watch out for John, and David carried a message from Keller to Dr. Rosen, thanking him for the advice on John's case.

In the hallway outside the infirmary, John led David to the transporter, but instead of choosing the dot that would take them to the top of the tower and the jumper bay, John glanced once down the hall to make sure Keller wasn't following them, and pushed a dot on the far side of the city, near the end of one of the long piers. They were there before David had the chance to question.

"I thought you told Dr. Keller we were meeting Colonel Carter in the Jumper Bay," he said as they exited. That had been the plan last evening.

"I lied. Jumper's not leaving for another hour. I want to show you something." John's face remained serious, but David couldn't help but grin. Sometimes you just couldn't take the kid out of the man.

They walked towards the very end of the pier, and David slowed his pace as he saw John raise his arm and press his elbow into his side. He somehow knew that John wouldn't accept an elbow, so David simply kept a step behind, ready to assist if he was needed.

John finally stopped beside an open-air entryway where a young man was waiting for them with a set of golf clubs slung over his shoulder. The man came to attention as John reached out and shook the Captain's hand casually.

John gestured to David next and said, "Captain Anderson, this is my brother –"

"David Sheppard," David interrupted quickly and reached out to also shake Anderson's hand. John chuckled.

"Anderson was the pilot on Jumper 1 yesterday who managed to pull off the impossible and fly that nuke to the Hive. I'm going to have to give him a raise," John added with mock disgust. Anderson looked very pleased at his commander's praise.

"Couldn't have done it without the drone backup, sir," Anderson replied, handing the set of clubs over to a confused David. "Keep 'em as long as you want, sir."

"I'll have Ronon bring them by later today," John answered. Anderson nodded, then waved as he walked off towards the transporter.

"That way."

John pointed David towards the entryway where David could feel a slight breeze and smell the tang of saltwater. He hefted the clubs and walked through, freezing only a step later as the astonishing view of a slightly choppy grey-blue ocean spread out before him in infinite carpeting. John slapped him on the back and passed by to sit down stiffly on a bench behind what David finally was able to recognize as a driving tee. A bucket of golf balls sat between squares of green carpeting.

"Try it out. Take a few swings," John invited.

"Into the ocean?" David asked in surprise.

"It's a hell of a lot of fun," John said. David felt a surge of enthusiasm for the idea and set the bag down to rummage for the biggest driver he could find. He shed his suit coat and rolled up his shirt sleeves, sparing a moment for thought at just how inappropriate a suit actually was in this place.

He made a few practice swings, then eagerly set a ball into the tee. The whack of the club against the ball was the most beautiful thing David had ever heard, and he grinned like a fool as the ball sailed into the glare of the bright sky, then dropped with a plop into the waves. John remained quiet behind him, and David grabbed for another ball.

"You don't use your own clubs?" David asked John after the second ball had sunk.

"Mine are back in my quarters. Anderson's got the best set on Atlantis, though. He played semi-pro for a year or two before he applied for pilot candidacy."

Whack.

"Rank hath its privileges?" David teased, assuming that John was showing off a little, subtly reminding David that this entire base was, in essence, under John's control. But there was genuine surprise in John's voice when he answered with quick negation.

"No, um, Anderson's just closer to the same height as you, and they're custom. I thought his clubs would fit you better."

"Oh."

Whack.

David felt a bit chagrinned. He wondered if he would ever truly understand his brother well enough to guess his motivations. They were just so very different. He would have been showing off, David admitted. John was all fight where David was passive. John was indifferent where David was aggressive.

Whack.

"Your swing has gotten a lot better," John said after a while.

"John, the last time we played golf together, you were 17 and I was in college."

"Right."

Whack.

"Listen, Dave I –"

"John," David interrupted as he set another ball on the tee, then turned to face John. He leaned against the golf club. "I haven't gone by Dave since college." John just grinned, pure mischief lurking behind his eyes.

"I know," he said, but his expression turned quickly more serious. "I just need to let you know – . I mean, thanks for coming and everything. I really owe you one and all. But the thing is –."

John cut himself off again and looked away, seeming to be disgusted with himself at his inability to find the words for what he wanted to say. David cringed in mild embarrassment as John struggled, but he held his tongue, kept himself from speaking for his brother. With another stab of chagrin, David realized that it may have been the first time in his life he'd offered John that courtesy. A courtesy he practiced daily in business life. John turned back, more determined.

"I'm good at what I do here, Dave. I like it here. But shit happens and sometimes the midway station gets blown up and communication with Earth is down for weeks, and sometimes I'm trapped – offworld for longer than I expected," John choked out the last, looking anxious as he realized had been about to reveal information he shouldn't. David could fill in the blanks.

"Sometimes you're MIA for 12 days, and your friends are worried sick about you," David allowed himself to say. John's eyes grew wide at the expression of understanding.

"Yes. I need you to know that. I need you to know why I can't answer your email all the time. Why I can't just pop in for the Superbowl and Dad's charity golf tournament. I just -" he stopped again, frustrated.

"You are a very busy man with a lot of responsibility, living in a very dangerous place under completely unique circumstances," David stated simply. John looked even more startled. "I know that now, John. And I know why you couldn't tell me before Dad died. I don't think I'd have been ready to hear it even if you had."

David turned back to the tee, lined up the club.

"You're always welcome, John. If you ever do find yourself on Earth around the Superbowl, or the holidays. Julia is dying to meet you."

Whack. John remained silent. Whack.

"Or at least keep in touch. Send a note when you can," David said, offering what he could if John wasn't ready for family dinners and weekend vacations together. The truth was that David would forever now live in a state of worry. Now that he had some idea of John's daily risk, every silence, every message delayed would be suspect.

"I'll do that."

"Good. And that reminds me. I'll send you some resources for improving inventory management and a very good book on the role of oversight committees in managing business processes."

"Oh, I'll really look forward to that," John said. David could almost hear the eyeroll.

Whack.

"Dave?"

Whack.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," David said.

Whack.

* * *

David was back in the jumper bay. Colonel Carter and Major Lorne shook David's hand formally, Lorne adding a slap on the arm and a brief word of thanks before he had to bolt out of the room. The look Lorne gave John, and John's chuckle, led David to believe that Lorne's excessive gratitude had a lot to do with the extra duties that Lorne carried while John was recovering. The Major would be very glad when John returned to his command and relieved Lorne of the burden.

David returned his attention to Colonel Carter.

"It occurs to me, Colonel," David began, hoping he sounded respectful enough, "that Atlantis might benefit from sending a permanent or semi-permanent representative to your oversight committee, the IOA, rather than depending on the IOA to try to get a complete understanding of your work here from inspection visits alone."

Carter's expression went from controlled exasperation to sudden interest. She cocked her head, and seemed to be thinking about the idea very hard.

"I've always found that a sympathetic voice in such a committee can work wonders in avoiding the back and forth of distance politics," David added, encouraged by her willingness to consider the idea. Carter began to nod, a look of grudging amusement turning the corners of her mouth.

"I may recommend just that, Mr. Sheppard," she said sincerely.

"Then I wish you the best in your command of this amazing facility. I am properly impressed, Colonel."

"Good," Carter said. "If it's at all possible, I would love to welcome you back again sometime, under better circumstances."

David shot a quick look at John, wondering what his brother's response to the statement would be, but John was looking at the floor and kicking a toe against the bronze decking of the bay.

"Sometime," he said, and Carter nodded again, looking thoughtful. She stepped back Ronon and stepped forward. The large man shook David's hand enthusiastically.

"I'm glad you're leaving," he said, in utter contrast to the smile on his face, and David couldn't help but blink in surprise. Ronon's smile just grew broader as he continued. "One stubborn Sheppard on Atlantis is one too many already. Two around here would just get aggravating."

David relaxed, and simply laughed uncomfortably with the rest at the very odd compliment. But he understood where Ronon's loyalties lay. For whatever reasons, this rough and unsubtle giant of a man was completely devoted to his brother. David understood that Ronon had spoken to him that day in the infirmary out of this devotion. In fact, after Teyla's comment just an hour ago, David was beginning to suspect a subtle conspiracy of sorts among John's friends.

Before David had a chance to figure out what to say to Ronon in response, Dr. McKay came jogging up the stairs from the Control Room into the jumper bay with a grumble and a shout across the room.

"Hey, wait up. I get to say goodbye, too." McKay pushed through the small crowd at the jumper's rear hatch and grabbed for David's hand, shaking it rather manically. David wondered if the man had gotten any sleep recently.

"Dr. McKay," David said after he'd managed to regain use of his hand. "I thank you for your persistence. Both in finding a cure and in convincing me to come. Standing here now, I can't imagine making any better choice on that evening you came to my house. I have just one question for you, though."

"Oh? What?"

"With all the amazing technology available to you, and especially that transportation device you used to send me to Cheyenne mountain, why would you even bother taking the time to talk to me? Why not just snatch me up and hold me aboard that ship until I agreed to come?"

McKay just shrugged, completely unsurprised by the question.

"Well, despite my recommendation to that effect, General Landry –," Carter cleared her throat pointedly, and McKay went on without missing a beat, "and Colonel Carter both thought that gaining your approval would be more – legal? – I think was the word Landry used?"

"Ah. Not to mention the security risks if I hadn't volunteered to sign the nondisclosure agreements," David added.

"Yes, well. That wouldn't have been that big a problem."

"Oh?" David was surprised. This place seemed like a secret big enough to protect at much cost.

"Yes. You wouldn't have seen a thing."

"I don't understand." How could they have brought him here without revealing its secret?

"McKay means you don't have to be conscious to give blood," Ronon said.

"Oh." Again, David had no response. He just turned to look at John who had one hand over his mouth, and the other wrapped around his middle in an effort to keep from laughing out loud. David had no doubt that Ronon was absolutely sincere. The thought of having narrowly avoided being kidnapped and drugged into unwilling blood donation was something he quickly decided he shouldn't dwell upon. After a long moment, John finally just shrugged and gave David an apologetic look.

"Well, then," David said. He felt a bit of sadness as the realization of departure came upon him fully. "I…should go."

"Goodbye, Mr. Sheppard."

"Goodbye, Dave."

"Later, Dave."

"It's –" David started to correct John's friends, then caught John's smirk out of the corner of his eye. "Never mind. Goodbye."

Carter, McKay and Ronon turned to walk together back towards the stairwell, leaving John who had been hanging at the back of the crowd. They had made what peace was possible for them at the pier, David thought. There wasn't much else to say.

John shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked a bit, looking uncomfortable. David smiled at the body language that was so familiar. John had looked that way the day he'd confessed to David that he'd enlisted in the Air Force without their father's approval. He'd looked that way the night he stood on David's doorstep with a duffel bag in his hand and a ring missing from his finger. He'd looked that way the day he stood on David's doorstep a few days after Dad's wake.

"Keep in touch," David repeated softly. John just nodded, still looking serious. Without understanding why he did it, David walked forward the few steps it took to offer his hand. John took it slowly, but the shake was firm. So much had changed between them, yet so much seemed the same. This was not the kid he knew, nor even the little brother who flew helicopters in Northern Afghanistan. But now he knew something about what his brother did, and where he did it. And that mattered to David Sheppard. Even if it shouldn't.

"Goodbye…Colonel," David said.

John narrowed his eyes, as if suspicious of the courtesy, but there was a small smile playing along his lips.

David nodded once, then turned into the jumper. He walked towards the cockpit, fully intending to watch every inch of the journey through the window this time. At the door to the forward section he turned back for one last glance. The jumper's hatch was lifting off the bay floor and David just caught John's little wave in his direction and his last words before the hatch clicked into place.

"Goodbye…Dave."

* * *

Rodney sat staring into his bowl of cereal, trying to find a brain cell that was awake enough to bring the spoon to his mouth. Beside him, Ronon sat slurping and shoveling down his own food with indifferent abandon, and for once, the obnoxious lack of manners didn't phase Rodney.

After the battle with the Hive, Rodney's work was just begun, and he had spent the better part of the following 36 hours testing and rewriting the 'gate network code to lock out Michael's dialing macro for good. That and the little sleight of hand with their 'gate address had been his full time concern. After he'd cleared 'gate travel for David Sheppard to leave, and had put the final touches on his configurations, Rodney had collapsed in his room for the past 12 hours.

As he sat blearily at the table with Ronon, he was coming to the slow realization that the next project on his agenda was the completely annoying encryption program for the intergalactic 'gate network. He heaved a gigantic sigh in response to his own thoughts, and Ronon looked at him with a raised eyebrow as he munched on a thick strip of bacon.

"Hello, Boys!"

Rodney groaned out loud and hung his head. Sheppard sounded, as impossible as it seemed, even more cheerful than usual, this morning. As Sheppard set his tray down and lowered himself gingerly into the chair, Rodney took the time for a good long glare. Sheppard was dressed in civvies, loose tan pants and a wrinkled light blue shirt that only he could pull off without looking sloppy. The shirt was thin enough that Rodney could just barely see the thick layer of bandages that still plastered Sheppard's left side. Holding in his temper, Rodney charitably decided that John was just happy to be out of the infirmary for a short time, and gave the man some slack. If only Rodney could keep him from talking, somehow.

"Good morning," said another voice, and Rodney pulled himself out of his scrutiny of Sheppard to see Teyla walk up. She tapped Sheppard on his shoulder to let him know she was there, then handed him the blue fuzzy football she'd been holding. Sheppard quickly shifted his chair around, and settled the baby on his knee so he could look at the kid's face. Again, Rodney had to scoot his own chair to one side to accommodate Ronon who leaned at the same time to get a good view.

"I will be back in an hour," Teyla told them warmly. And then she walked out of the room rather more eagerly than Rodney thought she should.

"Bye," Sheppard called after her belatedly. He bounced the baby on his knee, then grabbed his fork and shoved a few bites of food into his mouth, still staring at the baby's face. After a few minutes of baby-watching that Rodney was coming to decide he didn't mind so much if it kept Sheppard quiet, Ronon broke the silence, slouching back in his chair and also looking Sheppard over carefully.

"So. You feeling better, Sheppard?" Ronon said.

"Yeah, a little. I'm good as long as I keep up with the painkillers. I hate them, though. Can't concentrate."

"I know what you mean," Ronon said with sympathy. "How's all that gene stuff? The ATA, I mean. McKay said you had some trouble with the chair." Rodney looked up quickly, very interested in the answer himself. Sheppard just shrugged.

"I asked Keller about it. She thinks that my chemistry was just all off, so soon after the transfusions and treatment. Once I'm me for a little longer, it'll all work itself out." Rodney snorted and tried for a little humor.

"Well that's really good to hear, because I do not want to have to hold your hand the next time we need you to fly the city or shoot down some darts," Rodney stated emphatically. Ronon looked puzzled, but the glare Sheppard shot Rodney said very clearly that this was not safe territory to be making jokes in.

"The next time, McKay, I'll just let you fly those drones yourself," Sheppard warned, his voice dangerous. He went on, changing the subject, but releasing none of the sternness in his tone, "You got that problem with Michael having our 'gate address figured out yet? 'Cause I'll be making you fly the city yourself, too, if we have to move again." Rodney was properly cowered, but quickly found courage in the brilliance of the solution he was eager to tell Sheppard about.

"Yes, actually. When I upgraded the 'gate network to lock Michael out, I added a network wide patch that will forward our existing address to another 'gate. It's similar to what we do with the intergalactic 'gate network, but only one hop. Anyone dialing here will get sent to P33-334 and never be the wiser."

"Like call forwarding?" Sheppard said, looking convinced.

"Yes. We'll have to contact our allies, of course. But other than the inconvenience, it should throw Michael off for quite a while with little impact on us."

"What's the new address for here?" Ronon asked.

"We swapped. We dial P33-334 from now on and get sent here. It's a mess, I'll grant you, and not something we can do very many times, or with other 'gates at the same time, but for now…?" Rodney shrugged. Sheppard relaxed as well and seemed to be thinking the solution through.

"What's on 334?" he asked after another bite or two of food.

"Nothing. It's a desert. We took Michael's ascension device there yesterday after your brother left and irradiated a rabbit or two to give off the energy signature Michael was looking for. If he gets curious enough to walk through the 'gate, he'll think it was the rabbits all along."

"And that he sent his Hive on a wild goose chase to this location."

"And that it got destroyed by an enemy Wraith on the way home," Rodney confirmed. Then he frowned. When put all together, it seemed like a shaky house of cards of a solution that Michael could topple down on top of them with a mere flick of his evil finger. But it was the best they had. And that seemed to be how they did everything, so he was satisfied for now. Sheppard thought for another minute then also shrugged his approval.

"You double checked everything after you messed with the 'gate network, this time?" he said pointedly, returning to his food.

"Of course. What kind of question is that, anyway?" Rodney answered huffily.

"48,000 years in the future, McKay. That's what kind of question that is," Sheppard answered, the danger back in his voice.

"Oh, right. Yes, we tested thoroughly." At Sheppard's lingering stare, Rodney nervously fiddled with his silverware and added, "Very thoroughly. We'll test it again, today, even."

"Good."

And with that, Sheppard returned to his baby watching, relaxing completely again into his seat. Rodney watched it, too, for a bit. He just didn't get what was so fascinating about a creature that couldn't even add or subtract yet.

"So, are you going to just sit here for an hour with that thing?" Rodney pointed his fork at the baby, then dropped it onto the tray and began to gather his trash together. He certainly didn't intend to sit here looking at the potato all morning.

"Yeah. Keller will have my stripes if I carry him anywhere. Still too shaky. Teyla's coming back here to pick him up."

"Well, I hope you're not expecting me to entertain you. I've got an encryption program to write before Zelenka comes up with something first. You're on your own, Sheppard."

"Oh, I think I'll be fine..." he said a bit distractedly and Rodney looked up at just the right moment to see Sheppard flash a smile and a wink at someone over Rodney's shoulder. Rodney turned in annoyance to see a table of women from the geology department smiling back at Sheppard.

Rodney rolled his eyes in disgust. When he turned back around, Sheppard was holding the baby up and bouncing him to make him giggle out loud. The exclamations and sighs of adoration from the table behind was sickening. Rodney slumped in defeat. The look Sheppard shot him was smug and Ronon laughed in appreciation.

"Then, I'll be on my way," Rodney said. He stood to finish piling his trash on top of his tray. Sheppard bounced the baby a few more times, then stopped when the kid made a strange kind of grunt. Ronon grew instantly tense, but Rodney couldn't care less what other tricks Sheppard had up his sleeve for attracting women. Rodney grabbed for his cup of coffee and gulped the last of it down.

"Uh, oh," Sheppard said suddenly.

"What, Uh-Oh? You said no more Uh-Ohs. Where's the Uh-Oh?!" Rodney babbled as his head went up and he looked around in alarm, listening for sirens or the sound of explosions. All he saw, though, was Sheppard sitting tensely in his own chair, holding the kid out at arm's length. Before Rodney could query again about the emergency, Ronon bolted out of his seat and was gone. Completely gone. Rodney just caught a glimpse of his longest braid swinging out the door. Sheppard was looking a bit panicky, and the baby was beginning to make faces and wriggle in the awkward position.

"Rodney, I need your help," Sheppard blurted out, sounding as panicky as he looked. The kid started to fuss in little squawks of protest and Sheppard wrinkled his nose into a grimace. Rodney suddenly caught on.

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no. No you don't. You're the Uncle, remember? You take care of it."

"I- I can't. I'm not supposed to walk with him."

"Then call her on the radio!"

"She doesn't wear it when she's working out!"

"I'm not carrying it."

"Look, I'd take him to Teyla if I could, but she'd kill me if I passed out or tripped on the way."

"Then do something else!"

"Teyla didn't leave a diaper bag or anything, there's nothing else I can do," Sheppard flinched as the fussing grew louder. "McKay, dammit, just take the kid and walk him to the gym."

"I -, But -, You -." Rodney stammered even as Sheppard stood up and shoved the kid at Rodney's chest. Rodney turned his head and closed his eyes.

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled. The baby squawked.

"Ok!" Rodney yelled back.

The baby was crying in small little whimpers when Rodney reached out his hands and reluctantly wrapped his fingers around the fuzzy chest. The baby took one look at the new face holding him and began to squall even harder.

"I'll, I'll walk with you," Sheppard said anxiously, looking as awkward as Rodney felt. Rodney took one careful step towards the exit, then another, holding the baby like a bomb about to go off in front of him.

"You so owe me one, Sheppard," he said as they walked. Sheppard only nodded in violent agreement.

What a terrific start to the day.

Rodney shot another look at the completely freaked out and apologetic Sheppard, then thought of the table of flirting women and smiled slightly at the turn of fate. He quickened his pace, forcing Sheppard to struggle to keep up.

"I'm telling Teyla you were using the kid to pick up women, too," McKay added.

What a terrific start to the day, Rodney thought again. This time, Rodney wasn't feeling a bit sarcastic.

* * *

The flash of light faded, and David Sheppard was left standing on the driveway before his front door. For a long time, he just stood there, drinking in the muggy night air and smelling the familiar scent of the roses he'd had planted in the flowerbeds this spring. David traveled a lot, and coming home from a week away was not an unusual experience. Coming home from another planet, however, was. Everything suddenly seemed new again as he saw them with fresh eyes. Like that pile of newspapers against the garage door and the bulging mailbox hanging underneath the porch light. He hadn't had the time or the even the thought to put his deliveries on hold while he was gone.

Finally deciding he'd gawked enough, he dug his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. He had spent another day in Cheyenne Mountain after traveling through the Intergalactic 'Gate Network, and he was exhausted. Once inside, he tossed his keys at the little table, and wearily hung his coat on the coat rack before he turned into his office and set the laptop onto the rosewood desk. The glass of water still sat on the glass desktop, the puddle underneath having long since dried and left behind a faint ring.

With a sigh, he flipped open his briefcase, unopened during the entire trip except for inspection as he'd left the mountain. He pulled out his laptop and plugged it into its charger, then had to run back to the entryway to get his cell phone out of his coat pocket to do the same. While the devices charged enough for him to turn them on, he took the stale glass of water into the kitchen and fixed himself another cold glass.

At last he sank down into his large, leather desk chair. He looked at his watch. It said 10:00 p.m.

David was seriously tempted to simply go to bed. He was so far behind on work that another 8 hours wouldn't make much of a difference. He had managed to get a few brief messages out to his administrative assistant and his Vice President the day he'd left for Atlantis, the JAG lawyers had granted him that much access to a computer. But he finally decided he should at least check to make sure there were no serious matters that required immediate attention.

And he was desperate to talk to Julia. He needed to hear her voice, even if only recorded in voicemail.

He powered up the computer, then set it to start downloading email. He grimaced a bit guiltily as the scrollbar indicated hundreds of messages waiting for him, the subjects popping into the inbox one by one and scrolling up to and off the top of the screen. Leaving it to run for the moment, he poked his cell phone and watched as it searched for a connection. Almost as soon as the phone found the network, it beeped a notice that messages were waiting for him. David smiled as he recognized most of the numbers on the "missed call" list as Julia.

An instant later, he almost dropped the phone when it rang and vibrated in his hand. Still startled, he snapped it open automatically, forgetting to check the caller ID.

"Hello?" he said, also forgetting to announce his name.

"David! Oh thank goodness, you're back. We've been really worried. How are you? When did you get in? Where are you? How's your brother? Did you see him?"

Julia would have gone on for another twenty minutes if David hadn't laughed out loud and startled her in return.

"David? Are you OK?" Julia asked.

"I'm better now you've called," he said once he was finally able to control the laughter. He felt a week's worth of tension slide out of his body and through the seat of his chair into the floor. His voice grew soft with affection. "Much better now you've called."

"When did you get back?"

"Just now, actually. About 10 mintues ago. I'm at home, to answer another of your questions, nosy woman. And yes, I saw my brother. He's well. He's going to recover. I- I got there in time." Julia was quick to pick up on his unspoken relief.

"David, I'm so glad. I'm glad you went, and I'm glad John is going to be OK. Did you learn more about what your brother does? Where he works?"

David paused, the past day of threats and warnings about the secrecy surrounding Atlantis still ringing fresh in his mind. General Landry had been quite – clear – about what was expected in keeping that secret. For a moment, David wasn't sure how to answer.

"I learned a lot actually," he started slowly. "John works in a Top Secret facility that I can't begin to describe adequately without calling the wrath of the government down upon me. The whole thing is simply…incredible." Julia laughed.

"Incredible, as in…?"

"Completely unbelievable, yes," David said with a chuckle of his own. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Well then don't, because I don't want the wrath of the government taking you away again for another week. I missed you, and I'm glad you're back. Even if you can't tell me where you went."

"I missed you, too. How have things been? Were you able to check in with Walter during the week?" Julia snorted.

"Yes, we've been in touch several times. He wanted to put an APB out for you on Thursday, but I talked him down –."

They were soon lost in the chitchat of business and acquaintances and the camaraderie of friends who shared a familiar lifestyle and way of understanding the world. For David, who had been in such a foreign environment all week, the easy conversation felt something like relief. He realized that while he was now better able to appreciate John's world and John's responsibilities, he would never understand it. He could never be comfortable there. He suddenly realized why John maybe never felt comfortable here.

As they talked and caught up, David kept half an eye on the scrolling email messages. At long last, the download stopped, and no more appeared at the bottom of the screen.

Julia was saying, "So, David, you have to tell me more about your trip. As much as you're allowed, anyway. How did you and your brother get along? Did you have a chance to talk any? Patch things up?" David thought for a moment, hearing the curiosity in her voice. Another thing he didn't exactly understand was just why Julia was so interested in his relationship with his brother. She had never met John, never even seen any pictures except what Dad, and now David, had on his mantel. And those were long out of date.

"John was badly injured, so he was actually unconscious for most of my visit," David said at last.

"I'm so sorry," Julia interrupted softly. David just went on.

"But we had a chance to talk just before I left, and I spent a lot of time with John's friends. He works with some very interesting people."

"This Ronon person you mentioned at the wake?"

"Yes. He and a woman who serves on John's team named Teyla seem particularly close to John. And a scientist named McKay – I think I can say his name – was the person who actually saved John's life. I got the impression that McKay was close too."

"You can learn a lot about someone by their friends," Julia stated.

"I'm learning that."

"So. Did your little brother happen to impress you? Or is he still just a kid who flies helicopters and remains unworthy of the family name?" Julia's tone was teasing, but David could hear the challenge in her voice. He chuckled again at her tenacity on this topic. David had no words for everything he'd thought and felt over this past week, so he just gave Julia the answer he'd given to Colonel Carter.

"My brother is a remarkable man, Julia," David said. "I think, if Dad had been able to get past the fact that he's still Air Force, I think Dad would have been proud of him." There was a slight pause on the other end of the line.

"And what about you, David?"

The question took David by surprise. He didn't feel it appropriate to take pride in his brother. That wasn't his right. To do so would imply that David had some responsibility for, or influence over, John's life. And David was slowly becoming comfortable with the idea that he wasn't responsible for John. John was fully capable of being responsible for himself. And for a whole lot of other people who depended on him.

"John should be proud. He's done well for himself," David said firmly. Julia seemed pleased with the answer.

"I'm really glad to hear you say that. Do you think John will come back for a visit soon?"

David shook his head privately before answering. He didn't think so. John was happy where he was. And while they'd formed an uneasy truce, David didn't think they'd ever be truly close. Family dinners and weekend vacations together were a long way off for John. If ever.

"No. I don't think John will come around very much. He's…needed where he is." Julia's answer was disappointed, but understanding. David yawned and blinked tiredly. He reached to close the laptop, deciding to wait until tomorrow to scan his email before he went in to the office. As he touched the screen, one last message popped into the inbox, and to David's immense surprise, it was from John.

"Hey!" he blurted out, "Speaking of, I just got a message from John."

"Go ahead, read it," Julia encouraged, for once not minding that David had been checking mail while talking to her. He usually got yelled at for doing so. David clicked on the message.

The subject line said, "Who's Julia?" and the message when opened contained just one sentence: "Is she hot?"

David laughed long and hard to Julia's amused frustration. Finally, David answered her repeated queries with a tactful, "John says he'd like to meet you, too."

"Oh, good. Would you write to him from me that I'm sorry I got to the wake late and missed him, and that I look forward to getting all of us together sometime?"

"Sure," David replied mildly. He hit the reply button and typed two words. "Yes. Very." He hit send, now wondering things like when the next communication through the Stargate would be opened, and how long it would take them to rebuild the midway station. He yawned again.

"Done. I sent John a quick note. And now, I think I'd better go to bed or I'm going to fall asleep at my desk."

"Jet lag?" Julia asked sympathetically.

"You have no idea." The weariness was taking a firm hold, pulling him deep into lethargic grogginess.

"Then I'll let you go. I'm glad you're home, David."

"I'm really glad to be home."

A sudden rush of feeling overcame him and David closed his eyes, speaking into the phone with soft desperation. "Julia, can you come to the Ranch this weekend? I need to see you. I can't live another week without seeing you. I'll be catching up for a month, but I can work from the Ranch and I'll take you to The Farmhouse for breakfast." He realized he was pleading, even bribing Julia with her favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

"I think I can arrange that," Julia answered, her voice also husky with emotion.

"Good. Good. I can make it to Friday, then. Just – Good."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow, and I'll see you Friday. Goodbye, David."

"Goodnight, Julia."

David slumped over the desk and buried his face in his hands. He felt suddenly very alone, and he thought of his only brother, thousands of light-years away on a distant planet in another galaxy. Fully recognizing the futility of the act, he hit refresh on his inbox, hoping another message from John might pop in. No messages appeared, and a tiny gnawing seed of worry settled permanently into David's subconscious.

Pulling himself together with shaky control, he forced himself to focus on the work he had ahead of him, and the sanctuary of a weekend with Julia. Come to think of it, Teyla reminded him just a little bit of Julia. They both had a pointed wisdom, and a strength born of dealing with men in a man's world. The thought made him feel just a little better. John was in good hands, he had good friends.

David closed the laptop, flicked off the desk lamp, and trudged upstairs towards his bed. Twenty minutes later he was pulling his covers down and he sank gratefully into the bed's familiar softness. As he closed his eyes and tried to sleep, David wondered if John was still confined to the infirmary, or if he had been allowed to return to his own quarters, yet. He realized he hadn't even seen John's place. John's friends had not included that private space in the tour of Atlantis. He wondered if John would need any help once he did return to his own room. Would he be able to get his friends to bring him meals or help him dress?

David felt a sudden urge to contact Dr. Keller and make sure that such post-recovery considerations were being taken care of. Just as quickly, he dismissed the impulse, remembering John struggling through incredible pain as he controlled the chair and won the battle for Atlantis. John was tough, of that, David was certain. David reminded himself, yet again, that John didn't need his big brother watching out for him. John hadn't needed anyone for more than 10 years.

This time, that thought was comforting.


End file.
